


Bless Me, Captain

by HooksandHappyEndings



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anal Beads, Dom/sub, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Priest!Killian, Punishment, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, cursed!storybrooke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7370281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HooksandHappyEndings/pseuds/HooksandHappyEndings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma has been sheriff of Storybrooke for as long as she can remember. She's been dating Jefferson Hat for as long as she can remember. She lives a quiet life without friends or family and she likes it that way. So when the mayor's son Henry starts insisting that his mother is actually an imposter created by Dr. Jekyl's potion and that the whole town is under a terrible curse, she thinks she's going insane. But even more upsetting is his claim that the sinfully attractive priest Father Jones is actually her one true love, and that the fate of Storybrooke rests on their shoulders</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Operation Viper

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, this chapter will be one of the few that is relatively tame. Assume that the rest of this will be shameless priest!kink with as much plot as I can squeeze in between the lines. Slow burns are not my thing.

Regina sat in a miserable heap drawing circles in the dirt that covered the stone floor. The rarely used prison cell in her vault was proving to be extremely difficult to break out of and the boredom was starting to really piss her off.

She heard footsteps echo down the hall. The click-clack of high heals signaled that her daily visitor had arrived.

"Hello, Regina." cooed a familiar voice. Cruelty laced it's sultry notes, making her blood boil with rage.

"What do you want?"

The Evil Queen, dressed in a sensible pantsuit and tasteful pearls, smirked down at her doppleganger. "Oh, I just wanted to make sure my prisoner was comfortable. Do you need anything? Some books? A feather pillow? A snack?"

Regina knew it was a rhetorical question but she grumbled back anyway, "I could use a bath."

"You're lucky I give you a separate bucket for your water and your waste!" the queen barked. Regina only rolled her eyes. "I suggest you get used to discomfort because you will never see the light of day again."

Regina laughed. It was a genuine sound, despite her current state of misery. "Is that what you think? _God_ , how was I so stupid?!" She looked into the queen's furious gaze and said, "You are blinded by hate and rage. You're so focused on revenge that you can't see two feet in front of your face and you are so narcissistic that you have deluded yourself into thinking you've actually beaten them!" The fire in her alter ego's eyes ignited but Regina didn't back down. She slowly stood to her feet and made on her way, on weak legs, to the bars of the cell. "There's no beating them you moron. The only reason you and I have survived this long is because we gave up trying to destroy the heroes and _joined_ them."

"You were weak." she snarled.

"Yes, I was! Because of you!. Your-" she stopped herself, " _our_ ego... kept me from seeing the truth. The Evil Queen will never win. You may have delayed the inevitable with this little curse of yours, but Emma will stop you."

"What makes you so sure?"

Regina scoffed, "Because that's what she does! Don't you get it? She the _savior_. It is literally her purpose in life to be a thorn in my side and that means yours, too. She defeated you last time and she'll do it again."

At that the queen grinned from ear to ear. "Not likely," she said, "You see, the only thing that can break this curse is true love, and I've got her precious pirate somewhere she can't touch him. As long as they're apart everything will stay just like it is."

In the face of the queen's smug expression Regina laughed, " _That's_ your plan? Keeping Buttercup and Wesley apart? Those two could find each other in a fucking snow storm."

"Not this time."

"What did you do? Put him in a coma? We tried that, remember?"

The queen laughed cruelly, "I've learned from my mistakes, and I've gotten a bit more... _inventive_ over the last few years."

"Whatever it is you've done, whatever false lives they now lead, it won't last, and when Emma finds out you took her life-sized Adam Lambert doll away from her _again_ she's gonna be pissed. I am really gonna enjoy that show."

The queen balked at her audacity. She sneered through the bars with hateful glee, "I hope you enjoy your captivity, Regina, because even if you're right and Emma does break the curse, last time it took 28 years, and it's only been 3. Either way, I think it's safe to say you're gonna be here awhile."

Regina gritted her teeth, the leather cuff on her wrist itching terribly as she ached to tear her captor to shreds with magic. But alas, she had designed this cell herself. The Evil Queen put her in there because she knew what Regina knew, and Regina had no idea how to escape this particular prison. She returned to her spot on the floor, plotting her revenge in silence once again, for she knew that though it might be a century before she got out of this cage, she would eventually be free. Regina knew better than anyone that the Charmings would come through, and Emma would break this curse because that was what she was born to do.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

**Monday**

Emma woke at exactly 5:00 AM.

She didn't need an alarm clock to do it. It's simply what she did. Every Monday, Emma Swan rose from her bed, pulled on her leggings and a sports bra and went for a run along the shore with her loyal black and white husky Tyga. She loved the ocean. The sound of the waves that reminded her of something. Her childhood, perhaps. Her early memories were something of a blur making it hard to recall details, but she was sure that the smell of salt and the cerulean color of the sea under the veil of twilight reminded her of a home she'd had once had.

Emma always returned from her run at exactly 6:00, just as the sun was rising above the waves. After a quick shower she would eat a simple breakfast of bacon and eggs as she watched the pink and purples fade through her bay window while flipping through The Daily Mirror she enjoyed the quiet.

At 7:00 she gave Tyga a pat on the head and left for work, stopping by Granny's to pick up her usual hot cocoa on the way where Ruby informed her that someone had broken into the diner.

"They took all the cash in the register," she said, "but they didn't get what was in the safe." Emma jotted down some notes in her notepad. "You'll look into it, won't you sheriff?"

"Don't worry, Ruby," Emma replied, grabbing her cocoa, "I'll be sure to find the guy before your grandmother does."

When Emma got to the station she found that Deputy Piper was already there had already fallen asleep at him desk. "Peter," she hissed, "Peter!" Emma kicked his reclined legs off the edge of his desk, waking him with a start. "Good morning. Here," she let a a stack of paperwork half a foot high land on his desk with a heavy thud. "Get these filled out by the time you go home today."

"Why?" Peter whined. He never ceased to amaze her. Her deputy sheriff was practically a child in every way. The only reason he still had his job (which he loathed) was because no one had ever applied for the position. So she kept Peter on, despite the fact that he was basically useless.

"Because you were supposed to finish them last week and now they're late."

The boy groaned loudly and looked as though he were about to stomp his foot.

"And why is Leroy still in his cell?!" she rushed to unlock the jail cell with a grumpy Leroy inside, "He's been in here since Saturday, dammit Peter that's a human rights violation."

Peter shrugged, "I forgot he was in there."

"I've been yelling at you for thirty minutes you little twat!" Leroy screamed. He said to Emma as he left, "You're crazy for letting that little sociopath have a gun."

"Thank you, Leroy. Please stop getting drunk and pissing on public statues."

When the door closed she turned to Peter. "We have to look into a break in at Granny's."

"Ugh." was his only response.

Emma and Peter spent all day tracking down the missing money. The trail finally led them to Will Ledder, a known thief and pick-pocket. He was arrested and put in a cell, but was released when he agreed to return all the cash he had taken. Emma knew making Peter do the paperwork would be a nightmare, so she let him go.

When she left the station at 6:00 (as she always did) Emma passed by the clocktower in the the town square. The hands on it's face did not move, and hadn't for, well, as long as she could remember. The night was cold. She tugged her red leather jacket tighter around her as she slipped into Granny's for dinner. She ordered the lasagna and read The Princess Bride, which she had already done a thousand times, and felt perfectly content to do it alone. Emma had never felt the need to seek out the company of others. She liked doing things on her own.

After a trip to the corner store to get milk and a quick jog along the beach with Tyga, Emma crawled into bed at 9:00. It was a ridiculously early time for a thirty-year-old to go to sleep, but she hated feeling groggy in the morning and, truthfully, she didn't have much else to do. There was something truly awful about sitting alone in her house, listening to the far away waves of the ocean. She also sipped at a tumbler of rum before bed. It helped her sleep and something about the scent was calming, it almost made her feel safe.

Before snuggling into bed, she did her last task of the day. It was a duty she never failed to perform, no matter how exhausted she was. She knelt before her bedside, closed her eyes, clasped her hands, and prayed.

Emma's faith was the one clear memory that she had. She had clung to it in order to escape a miserable childhood that she had almost completely blocked out. The church had helped her get off the street when she was young and alone. She owed her life to the kindness of Catholicism, but she hadn't been to mass in... well, a very long time, because of a dark and shameful secret that haunted her very soul. But, despite her reluctance to seek confession, every single night, Emma prayed.

She usually drifted off around 9:30, and she never, _ever_ dreamed.

**Tuesday**

Emma woke at exactly 5:00 AM.

She ran with Tyga, she watched the sunrise over breakfast, and she stopped by granny's on her way to work.

"Sheriff Swan, if I could have a word?" Mr. Gold spooked her from behind nearly making her spill her hot cocoa. "Some teenagers have vandalized my shop. I'm sure you can get to the bottom of it?"

"Sure," she said, eager to end their conversation. Mr. Gold always gave her an uneasy feeling no matter how innocuous their conversations always seemed. "I'll look into it."

When she got to work she shook Peter awake and reminded him to do his paperwork, ignoring the face he made when he thought she wasn't looking. They spent the day tracking down the vandals: two youths named Hans and Greta. Emma locked them both up for the night and called Gold to let him know that she had taken care of it.

At the diner she ate a grilled cheese and onion rings while reading her book, like she did every Tuesday, and was picking up eggs at the corner store by 7:00.

Run, rum, prayer, bed. Like clockwork.

**Wednesday**

Awake at 5:00, run, shower, breakfast.

At the diner she was told that a child named Roland had gone missing. His mother, a redheaded woman named Zeta, was terribly worried, so Emma hurried to the station to wake up Peter.

They found Roland wandering around in the woods looking for his Papa. The whole thing broke her heart. His father had died long ago. Whatever the circumstances, Zeta didn't like to talk about them, but the boy, being so young, was still very confused as he struggled to comprehend death at such a fragile age.

At the diner she ordered a cheeseburger and french fries and began to read, but she heard a voice that made her look up.

The mayor, Regina Mills (who was a royal bitch), was entering the establishment with her young son in tow. He was ten-years-old and, though Emma had never actually met him, she had a soft spot for the boy. Every Wednesday, Regina took her son to get a hot cocoa at the diner after his weekly therapy session with Dr. Hopper, and every Wednesday, instead of reading her book Emma watched him as he sat in the booth in front of her. She was careful to disguise her voyeurism but she couldn't help but stare. He was a cute kid, and for some reason he made her long for something that she knew she could never have.

At the store she picked up enough protein bars to last her a week. They were for lunch while she worked so she didn't have to take a break.

After she ran she drank rum and after she drank rum she prayed. Then she fell into a dreamless sleep, as always.

**Thursday**

Awake, run, shower, breakfast.

At the diner, no one stopped her about any crime, but soon after she woke Peter up she got a call about a domestic disturbance at the Whale residence. The good doctor was, once again, arguing with his wife Kathryn. The two never came to blows but they weren't afraid to shout. She claimed that he was cheating and he claimed that she was spoiled brat who didn't appreciate him. Emma told Peter to write the report and left the place before she arrested them both for being equally awful people.

At Granny's she ordered a club sandwich with kettle chips and read her book. She was getting towards the end and that always made her sad, but the best part was when Wesley came to Buttercup on the night of her wedding. She loved the idea of love popping up when you least expect it.

At the store she bought toilet paper. Her run was quick, her rum was good, her prayer was chaste, and her sleep was deep and dreamless.

**Friday**

After her usual morning routine Emma ran into David at Granny's. He always came in at the end of the week to pick up a pie for his two kids. He was a widower, which was a shame because Emma could tell that he had an immense capacity to love. She hated seeing him alone and always longed to see him smile. Sometimes she even considered dating him (he was a nearly perfect specimen after all), but something about the idea repulsed her which seemed confusingly uncalled for.

There were no crimes that day which allowed her time to focus on paperwork (usually while Peter slept) and clean up the office.

At the diner she had a salad and finished her book, so afterwards she headed to the library where Lacey the librarian helped her find something new.

"I don't know... I've read almost everything in here."

"What about this one?" she asked, handing Emma worn copy of Peter Pan, "I don't think you've ever checked it out. And... you do... have a thing for pirates... don't you?"

Emma laughed and rolled her eyes, "You got me."

That night she met Ruby and Ashley for drinks at the Rabbit Hole. It was her one weekly tradition that involved true human interaction and companionship. They spread town gossip, which was mostly the same, and drank away their collective loneliness. On her walk home from the bar she caught Whale propositioning the woman everyone knew as Tink who was known to be a prostitute, and had to arrest him. Emma couldn't help but notice that _everyone_ seemed to be lonely in Storybrooke, but strangely, everyone (including herself) appeared to have given up looking. There just wasn't much hope at all, and after her prayer, as she drifted off to sleep, she fell into the dark dreamless abyss that ensnared her mind every night.

**Saturday**

On Saturday Emma slept in. She waited until the sun had already risen to crawl out of bed and make her breakfast. Tyga always whined for a run but Emma needed her weekly break. She took her time getting down to the station to let Whale go home to his wife and afterwards brought her car to the David who was the only mechanic in town, for a tune up. The yellow bug needed lots of care. She had no idea why she still drove that thing. Honestly, she couldn't even really remember why she bought it (or _when_ she bought it, for that matter), but she wanted it to last as long as possible regardless.

She spent most of the day in her garden, working up a sweat pulling weeds from the earth and pruning her rose bushes which were covered in pink blooms. She cleaned her house and did her laundry for the week. By the time she was done with chores it was 5:00 and time for to get ready. She took a long shower, meticulously shaving from head to toe, and scrubbed all the skin she could reach until she felt fresh and new.

Emma put on her favorite red dress, the one he loved, and did her makeup to the nines. When the doorbell rang she answered with a smile that felt slightly false, but brightened her mood all the same.

"Hey, babe!" Jefferson said, greeting her with a sloppy kiss, "I missed you."

She took his hand and said, "Me, too." as they walked towards his Mercedes and drove off towards the nicest Italian restaurant in town.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

"So, how was your week?" Jefferson asked over spaghetti and meatballs while Emma munched on calamari.

She tried not to sound annoyed when she answered him. It seemed like he asked the same question every week, and her reply was always the same. "It was fine."

"Did anything interesting happen?" Another familiar question.

"Nope. Just the usual."

They ate in silence for a bit, then he made the rather half-hearted comment, "You look really nice tonight."

"Thank you." she said, and took a moment to look him over. He was very attractive, that much she was sure of, and he was nice to her. Not, like, _super_ nice... but nice enough. By all respects he was a good boyfriend. He gave her rides when her car wouldn't start, he bought her presents on her birthday and all major holidays, and he kept her company once a week. It was just enough to barely satisfy her. Or, at least, that's what she told herself.

"Did you notice the clocktower is working again?"

"What?" said Emma, surprised that he had deviated from their usual script.

"That old clocktower in the square. It's ticking again. I noticed it this morning."

"Oh," she reached for a breadstick, "they must have finally gotten around to fixing it."

"I can't remember the last time that thing worked."

Emma shrugged, answering with a full mouth, "Neither can I."

That night they went back to his place, a mansion in the forest. They drank coffee and chatted about nothing until they finally fell into bed. The sex was about as good as any girl could realistically hope for. They had the routine down. He would work her with his fingers until she came apart, but he was so precise and clinical with his ministrations that the whole event usually took less then a few minutes. She supposed that was a good thing... but a part of her wished he would take his time. Next came the real thing, which was always in the missionary position. It, also usually took very little time. They had been dating for as long as she could remember and manipulating his body had become second nature. Again, she told herself that was a good thing, but something deep inside of her wanted something different. Something more.

Her life may have been simple but it was safe and consistent. There were never any surprises or unexpected troubles. Just the same thing with the same people, every single day.

Before she went to bed she opened her new book, quietly turning the pages as Jefferson snoozed peacefully next to her. Emma realized she had never read it before, and found herself quickly engrossed in the story. She fell asleep while reading about a particularly exciting sword fight...

And that night, she had a dream.

**Sunday**

_Emma couldn't see, but she could feel. She could feel stubble scratching roughly across the skin of her neck. She could feel a strong hand palming her bare breasts, kneading at her flesh hard enough to bruise. Calloused fingers found her core, wet wanting. Her body was aching for him all over. She heard the moans escape her throat when he entered her. He worked her slow, building up her pleasure until she was writhing beneath him. Her fingers ran through the hair on his chest as he said delicious things in her ear. "Do you like that Emma? My beautiful Swan? There is nothing like watching you fall apart at my bidding. Will you come for me, love? Will you let me watch you succumb to me?"_

_Emma could feel her breathing going shallow as the fingers inside of her hooked into a spot deep inside that made her cry out. "Don't be afraid, darling, I've got you. Give yourself to me, Emma. My sweet Emma."_

Emma jolted awake. She was panting, her body covered in sweat and her insides absolutely aching. She felt empty and desperate. Her inner thighs were soaked. The dream had seemed so real and she cursed the cruelty of the morning light for tearing her away just as she was on the brink of satisfaction. Now she just felt frustrated.

"Good morning." she heard Jefferson groan. When he put his arms around he added sleepily, "God, you're burning up."

"I have to go." she said, crawling out of his embrace.

"What? Why?" Usually they got breakfast at Granny's but Emma was already half dressed and heading for the stairs.

"I'm not feeling well," she called over her shoulder, "I think I'm getting sick, I don't want to give it to you."

"O-ok." he stuttered, clearly too tired to argue. "See you next week?" he shouted from upstairs as she was walking out the door. She would take one of his many cars knowing he could pick it up later.

"Yeah! I'll see you then!" And with that she was gone, wincing with every step she took as her burning thighs created friction that nearly drove her mad. The feeling was confusing, almost foreign, and yet somehow vaguely familiar. She drove home with the windows down, trying to cool off, unaware that her journey had just begun.

KEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma's Sunday was spent tending her garden. The town was emptied out for mass, as usual. Storybrooke's residents were a collectively devout people. In fact, Emma was the only citizen that _didn't_ attend mass at least weekly. On Sundays everyone got together after the service for a great potluck at Granny's. Even Ruby managed to pull on a dress of a respectable length to take communion with her grandmother.

Emma always handled it the same. She pulled weeds and pruned and watered until her hands were sore. Then, when there was no more work to do she would sit on the little bench under the oak tree and read her bible. Her fingers would inevitably find the gold crucifix that hung around her neck at all times. The feel of the cool metal and intricate design always comforted her. It reminded her to resist the urge to sin; to lie, to cheat, to steal. It was one of two pieces of jewelry that she owned. The other was a silver ring with a single blue stone. It resided on her left hand. Not for any symbolic reason. That was simply the only finger that it fit, and she had never bothered to get it resized. Somehow, deep down, Emma knew that it was the only ring she would ever wear, and that it belonged on that finger.

She didn't go inside until well after the sun was set. She cleaned up after dinner, dreading the day to come. Peter had called to tell her that Leroy was in his usual cell for getting into a fight at the Rabbit Hole and when she asked if he'd done his paperwork he made a sarcastic remark and hung up the phone. Emma was just crawling into bed after her evening prayer when the doorbell rang.

For a moment, she was frightened. No one had ever stopped by unannounced.

No, wait, that couldn't be right. Surely someone had, at some point. People did that, didn't they?

If they did, Emma certainly couldn't remember it ever happening to her. She padded downstairs in her pajamas and warily peaked through the peephole, but there was no one there. Slowly she opened the door expecting no one. What she found surprised her beyond belief.

"Mom!"

Emma blinked, trying to process the word. Before her stood Henry Mills, the mayor's son. She had watched him from afar for years but they had never actually spoken, and now he was looking at her like she was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

"Uh... Henry?"

Henry pushed past her and marched into the house with determination in his gait. "Ok, we gotta make this quick because she's going to check on me in a few hours."

"W-what?" Emma stammered, "Who?"

Henry turned around and replied, as if it were obvious, "The Evil Queen."

She shook her head, closing the door to keep out the chill. She must have heard wrong. "What did you say?"

Henry peeked out from the kitchen, sighing heavily, "Damn, I was hoping you got your memories back when I did. Well, I convinced you once, I can do it again. Let's call this mission Operation Viper."

Emma's head was whirling. For a moment she thought she might simply be hallucinating. "Listen, kid, I think you might be confused..."

"I'm not confused," he said, climbing up on the counter to get a glass from the cabinet. Emma briefly wondered how he automatically knew exactly where they were, "You're Emma Swan, the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. That makes you the product of true love, and you're the only one that can break this curse."

" _Curse_?!" she suddenly recalled that Henry had been in therapy for as long as she could remember, "Oh, boy. Listen, I think I should get you home to your mom."

"She not my mom!" he shouted, startling her with his adamant tone. "I mean... I guess technically she is... but she's the bad part of my mom. The part that didn't love me. The good part of my mom is hidden somewhere in town, but I haven't been able to find her."

"You mean... you have two moms?" It was the most sense she could make out of what the strange child was saying.

Henry replied while fixing his drink, "Well, yeah, but the mayor isn't one of them. She's an imposter. The real Regina is my adoptive mom and..." he winced when he said the next part, " _you're_ my birth mom."

Emma's stomach dropped. She could feel all the blood leaving her face. She couldn't handle this. It was too much. "Henry, I don't know what kind of trick you're trying to play on me but it is very cruel."

"Because of what she made you think that you did. I know. But that's a fake memory. You have to believe me."

Emma felt breathless. How could he possibly know? Absolutely no one knew.

"Listen to me very carefully," he said seriously, "you have to go to mass next week."

"What? Why?"

"Because if he sees you it might change something!"

"If who sees me, Henry?"

"Just promise me you'll go!"

She became flustered, "I haven't been to church since I was... I can't even remember the last time I went to church."

"But you're like, super religious, right? Just like everybody in this town?"

"Uh..."

"You don't have to answer. I know that you are. In fact, you're so religious that I bet you take holy vows reeeeally seriously."

"Everyone takes holy vows really seriously."

He scoffed and mumbled, "Let's hope not." then he continued, "So you're really religious, but you don't go to mass because you would have to confess and that means facing what you think you did which goes against everything you believe, right?"

Emma was shocked. She just stood there gaping like a drowning fish. How was this possible? Was he reading her mind?

Henry just kept talking, "Don't you get it?!" he exclaimed, "She put those memories in your head to make sure you never went to mass and so that if you _did_ ever go to mass you wouldn't have sex with a priest."

"Ok!" Emma yelled, snapping back to reality. This kid was clearly coocoo for cocopuffs and it was time for him to go. She bent down to his level and looked him straight in the eye, "Listen, kid, I don't know what kind of TV your mom has been letting you watch but you are way off base here and I need to get you home."

"You can't take me home. If she's catches you she'll know I have my memories back. Right now we have the element of surprise."

Henry began walking out the door but Emma stopped him, "Hey! I can't let you walk home after dark, you're only ten!"

"I'm not ten!" he shouted stubbornly, "I'm fourteen! That psycho bitch put me back in my ten-year-old body because she wants to go back to the time before you broke the curse. She's turned this whole thing into a creepy mommy dearest do-over. And, worst of all, NO ONE IN THIS TOWN AGES! So if we don't fix this I'm gonna be stuck this way forever!"

She tried to reason with him one more time, "Henry-"

"You're the savior. I know this is going to be hard, but you did this once and you can do it again. I'm not sure how, but she went through a lot of trouble to keep you and him apart, so phase one of Operation Viper is to make sure you meet him."

"Meet _who?!_ " she called after him as he disappeared into the night.

Emma heard his reply on a seafaring wind, "Don't worry, you'll find him. You always have!"


	2. Pretty Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is pretty much all Mad Swan and is pretty skippable if that's not your thing however the CS factor is definitely still there. I swear I didn't mean for this to happen but after watching Civil War for the third time I had to get this out of my system. This will not happen often, I promise, and this will definitely NOT BE A LOVE TRIANGLE. The next chapter will be put up later tonight since it was originally one piece but then I decided I shouldn't make everyone sit through my Sebastian Stan salivating.

"PETER!" Emma screamed from her office. The deputy continued to lounge at his desk, bobbing his head to the sounds coming from his headphones and playing angry birds on his phone. She hurled a large legal pad at the glass window, making him jump and tear his earbuds from his ears. "Peter, get in here!" she yelled, not failing to miss the epic eyeroll that preceded the twenty-two-year-old standing up, taking a languid stretch, and shuffling into her office. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said sarcastically, "Did I disturbed your nap?"

"I wasn't napping, I was winning, _Emma_. That's what I do. What do you want?" he said with a facial expression that she just wanted to punch off his face.

"Peter, you did not fill out _any_ of this paperwork."

"Yes, I did." he snapped.

"No, you didn't. You just," Emma picked up a form and look it over rattling off what she saw, "drew a bunch of pictures of fairies, checked all the boxes with tiny penises, and signed every line..." she flipped through the stacking looking at the signatures, " _Mike Hawk."_

Peter burst into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, what are you, twelve?!" she griped, "I've told you a thousand times, I cannot close these cases until you fill out your damn paperwork!"

"What does it matter?" he asked, sounding almost bored in his condescending British accent, "No one reads that stuff anyway."

"Yes they do- How are you arguing with me about this? Paperwork is part of your job. Keeping meticulous records is an important part of the criminal justice system and-"

"Ugh!" he interrupted her with that annoying catch phrase of his, "This conversation is so boring."

"Well, that's perfect because I just gave you something to do."

"I don't want to do that," he said, leveling her with a hateful glare, "I want to do something else."

Emma rolled her eyes, "Like what?"

He thought about it for a moment... "Can I go to lunch?"

She sent him a withering look, "No, you cannot go to lunch, it's 10:00 in the morning."

"But I'm hungry!" he whined, "And I'm tired."

"Here," she through a binder at him that he lazily caught as it slammed against him chest, "have fun filling out your paperwork, Peter."

"What's up your arse?" he sneered, "Did pretty boy not satisfy you this weekend, Emma."

"Ew!" she screamed, "Get out!"

"I'm not surprised," he smirked arrogantly, "Rich guys are always lazy in bed. Perhaps you need something fresh and... youthful."

"Oh, great!" she yelled as he returned to his desk shaking with laughter, "Now I have to fill out another sexual harassment report, thank you, Peter," and when he was out of ear shot she added, "you little shit."

There was something about that boy. For some reason, he just turned her into a different person. It was like his immaturity was contagious on a physical level. She shook off the encounter and went back to her work, trying not to admit to herself that her mood had more to do with her dream than her awful coworker.

She could still feel it all. Strong, sinewy arms wrapped around her waist, silky hair sliding through her fingers, and a voice. She couldn't actually make out the details but she could feel the richness in it's tone and the depth of its timbre. The things it had said brought a blush her cheeks as she recalled the sinful words: _succumb to me_.

Emma took a deep breath. She felt so fucking empty. All she wanted was something to fill her. It seemed like such a crass thought and not like her at all, but at the same time her body was screaming at her to do something about the ache that was consuming her every thought.

But what could she do? Masturbate in the middle of the day? That seemed a little primal. Then she remembered: she had a boyfriend that didn't work.

On her way out of the station Emma called over her shoulder, "Have that paperwork done by the time I get back!"

"Where are you going?!" he cried as if it just wasn't fair.

"Personal day." she replied.

"Can-"

"No, you cannot also take a personal day." she cut him off before bursting through the door into the frigid day.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma made it to Jefferson's in just fifteen minutes. She didn't realize she was pounding on the door until it flew open revealing her flustered boyfriend. She looked him over, head to toe. He was wearing only his boxers and a sleepy expression. His hair was adorabley mussed from restless sleep. He looked exactly like a trust fund brat would presumably look at 10:15 in the morning.

"Emma, what are you-"

She didn't wait for him to finish. She physically _couldn't_ wait. Emma flung herself at him, catching his lips with hers.

It took a moment for him to catch on, but soon he was molding his mouth to her's. She pushed him back inside and shut the door while she allowed long-dormant passions to take over. She had no idea where this was coming from. She had never kissed him like this. His clean shaven face felt a little off, so instead pretended she felt the scratch of stubble that wasn't really there.

She pushed him into the wall, kissing him deeper, and harder, hearing the words in her head: _Give yourself to me, Emma._

"Fuck me." she whined into his lips, "Fuck me, please, fuck me."

At that he tried to stop her, pulling slightly away but she just moved to his neck, inhaling the expensive cologne that lacked a certain spice she was looking for but still smelled amazing to the insatiable hormones that were overtaking her. "Emma," he said, his voice broken with obvious desire, "What's going on, babe? Is everything okay?"

"No." she said, making sure to sound as wrecked as she felt, "I need you you, J. Please, I can't stop thinking about you." It was a lie but it was accurate enough. She couldn't stop thinking about _someone_.

"O-ok," he stuttered in between kisses, "B-but I think maybe we should slow-" his voice hitched when she slid her hand into his pants and gripped his already hard cock. She had never appreciated the size before now, for some reason always taking him for granted. At that very moment she couldn't have been happier to have a gorgeous, well-endowed man at her disposal. She was lucky, he had something powerful enough to satisfy her craving. Emma nearly tore her boots and jeans apart trying to get them off.

She flung her panties somewhere out of sight and said the line she knew would get him riled up, "Jefferson," she whined in a childlike octave, "I need you. I need you're huge cock."

The next time they kissed it was he who was in control. He flipped them so that her back was against the wall and took charge charge of her mouth while his hands wandered up and down her body as if he were discovering every inch for the first time. He hoisted her up and wasted no time lining him self up before driving into her in one hard motion.

Emma cried out, "Yes! God, yes!" It felt amazing to finally be full. It was like she had never had sex before in her life. All the sensations felt different and she craved the feelings which were so confusing. She was attracted to Jefferson, and his fervent kisses were increasing her arousal, but she knew that it wasn't the original cause. There was something odd about a dream sparking such an intense sexual experience, as if it had made her come alive.

Jefferson began to move, rocking into her with slow, careful thrusts, allowing her body to get used to the intrusion, but that wasn't what she wanted. "Take me hard, Jefferson. Fuck me like I'm yours."

"You are mine." he growled in a voice that she barely recognized.

"Then prove it. Fuck me until I can't walk. Fuck me hard and deep. Claim me with your cock."

"Fuck, Emma!" he shouted as he began to slam into her with earnest, "I don't know what has gotten into you but- Oh fuck me, your pussy feels so good." He seemed to lose himself them, falling into a frantic rhythm that took her breath away.

She was trying to focus on him and the incredible sensations he was causing but she kept hearing that voice: _There is nothing like hearing you come apart at my bidding._

She shook her head, ignoring her treacherous thoughts. She had a boyfriend who was fucking her like he meant it for the first time in their relationship and wanted to enjoy it. "Talk to me." she pleaded, her voice sounding ragged and helpless.

He complied with vigor, spouting off vulgar things that made her walls fluttered. "You like being fucked like this, Emma? You like leaving work in the middle of the day because you're craving my cock?"

"Yes!" she cried, adjusting to his voice which was pleasant even if it wasn't the one she was hearing in her head.

"I might have to take you like this more often. Maybe tomorrow I'll surprise you at the station and bend you over your desk so I can fuck you like the dirty little girl you are."

Finally, she was with him. All thoughts of stubble and chest hair left her mind as she neared her climax, riding his filthy words like a stallion. "Yes, God, don't stop!"

"I'm not going to stop. I'm going to abuse your cunt all day until I'm finished with you."

"Yes," she moaned, "Use me."

"Fuck me, Emma, I have never seen you like this, you are fucking incredible!" he exclaimed with utter sincerity, "Are you going to come for me?"

_Will you come for me, love?_

"I want to. Please make me."

He quickly reached between them and rubbed at her swollen clit, instantly sending her over the edge. She moaned, long and loud, the forceful movement of him against her inner walls drawing it out like she had never experienced before.

As she came down, she felt all the rigidity leave her body. Jefferson caught her when her legs gave out, covering her sweat soaked brow in gentle kisses. They both began to awkwardly laugh as he supported her weight, lazily leaning into each other and panting like teenagers after their first french kiss.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked, though she could tell he wasn't complaining.

"I uh..." she searched for an answer, but she had know idea what that was. It was like her sex drive had kicked on for the first time in her memory. She had never _wanted_ like that, and even though Jefferson wasn't the man from her dream she felt satisfied and thoroughly sated. "Thank you," was her reply, "I really needed that." She began gather her clothes and pull them on, wincing as her sensitive nerve endings met the fabric.

He looked dazed and spent, but mostly confused. "Would you like to... go to lunch, or something?"

She laughed, "Actually, I should really get back to the station to yell at Peter some more." He surprised her with a kiss and a warm embrace. "I'll see you this weekend." she whispered into his lips.

"If I can fucking wait that long."

She giggled (actually _giggled_!) and left him with one last peck on the cheek rushing out the door. She caught a glance of his stunned look that followed her to her car from his living room window and tried to hide her smile. It was the best time she had had with her boyfriend for as long as she could remember. Something different, something new, and all because of her strange little dream.

For a moment Emma worried that the silky voice had lingered in her head well into the experience, but shook away the thought. The man from her dream was just a figment of her imagination. An idea that only served to bring her and Jefferson closer together. He meant nothing. He _was_ nothing. I mean, it wasn't as if he could ever come between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And thank you for humoring my unfaithfulness to Killian. Hopefully he will forgive me in time. Please review! I'm really new to this so it's good to know if I'm doing it right.


	3. Born Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this where it gets good. This little writing experiment took me to some pretty extreme places so be warned: this is some seriously kinky stuff! Like, I am not messin' around. Read at your own risk.

It was Wednesday morning when Emma found herself sitting in her car, watching Gold's shop in hopes the vandals would return to the scene of the crime. She heard her door open.

"Hey!" she exclaimed in confusion as Henry Mills crawled into her passenger seat.

"Don't worry, I won't stay long. I just want to make sure you're going to mass this Sunday."

Emma answered through her bewilderment, "Don't you have school or something."

"Oh I am way too old to be making macaroni murals. And Violet is my art partner which is really creepy because a couple weeks before the curse she let me touch her boob in the alley behind the diner and now she looks like a guest on Sesame Street. This is extremely confusing for me. I mean, prepubescent hormones are bad enough but this bullshit is going to be seriously damaging to my psyche. I mean, how am I supposed to make out with her now that I've seen her pee her pants because she drank three juice boxes in two-and-a-half minutes?"

"Ok," Emma said, trying to keep up, "if I really were your mother you would not be telling me this."

"I know. It's a ten-year-old thing. Apparently my brain matches my fake age so I'm having difficulty filtering. You used to find it endearing, but now it's just really hard to keep secrets."

"Well, feel free to work on that." she commented grumpily. This kid was definitely going to get her in trouble.

"So... mass... Sunday... You're going?"

Emma looked at him then. His eyes were big and hopeful and she saw something vaguely familiar in the shape of his face, but she shook off the thought and asked, "Why do you want me to go so badly?"

"I told you, you have to meet someone."

"Oh, right. Who is it?"

Henry shook his head vigorously, "I shouldn't tell you."

Emma slammed both hands on the steering wheel making why jump, "Why not?!"

"Because when you see him you're gonna feel something, I just know it, and that's what's going to get you to believe. But if I tell you who to look for you'll just think you're feeling it because I told you too."

"Feel something? What does that mean?"

"Just trust me, you'll know it when you see him. I gotta go, the queen can't know I've been sneaking off. She'll get suspicious." he reached for the door handle but she grabbed his arm.

"Henry," she said, searching for some meaning in this conversation, "you should really talk about this stuff with your therapist."

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, "That's how we got caught last time. _This_ time we're gonna do it right. She won't know we're working to break the curse until it's too late. If we play our cards right maybe this time we'll avoid her trying to kill you altogether."

Emma just stared at him openmouthed. There was simply no response to his words. Finally, she said, "I'm not going to church, kid."

He smirked, "Yes, you are."

"No, I'm-"

"Yes, you are because your superpower is telling you that I am not lying."

Emma furrowed her brow in confusion, "Superpower?" She had only called it that in secret. Why would she ever admit out loud that she believed she could _always_ tell when someone was lying.

"Mass starts at eleven. Don't be late, You're gonna wanna get a seat up front."

She sighed heavily, "Will it get you to leave me alone?"

Henry got out and slammed the door closed, yelling through the window, "No, but you'll do it anyway."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

On Saturday, Emma found herself lying in bed next to Jefferson as he drifted off to sleep. The sex had been better than usual, but it wasn't quite as Earth shattering as their previous performance had been. The dreams had continued, and by the time she finally had her boyfriend in bed she was disappointed to find that even his new ferocity between the sheets just wasn't enough to satisfy her. She longed to be touched by calloused hands, his were soft and well-moisturized. She wanted to feel beard burn on the soft skin of her inner thighs, his face was always clean and perfectly manicured.

"I want to go to mass with you on Sunday." she said suddenly, surprising even herself.

He looked up blearily from his pillow, "I would love that, babe. I hate going alone."

She smirked down at him, "You know, it wouldn't kill you to make some friends in this town."

He responded by pulling her close and planting a wet kiss on her temple, "I have you."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma paced in front of her closet on Sunday morning. The contents of her wardrobe were strewn across her room. There wasn't a single dress appropriate for church and Jefferson would be there to pick her up any minute. She sat down on the bed and let her head fall in her hands with a heavy sigh. Why was she even doing this? Because some schizo kid who was clearly in the midst of a nervous breakdown told her to? That would be crazy! She tried to remind herself that she was going to make Jefferson happy, but she knew it wasn't true.

Emma got up and walked over to the closet one more time. She stepped inside the empty space and pounded against the wall in frustration, but instead of hitting solid drywall, she felt the it give in a strange way. Curious, she carefully pried the loose board away and moved it to the side revealing a dark space. Ignoring everything she had learned from scary movies, Emma reached into the hidden compartment as far as she could, until her finger brushed something soft.

To her great shock, she pulled a sensible A-line dress into the closet. It was a ridiculous shade of cotton candy pink, definitely not something she would ever pick out on her own, and yet it looked familiar somehow, as if she'd seen it before. She had the sudden and irresistible urge to put it on.

As she stood in front of the mirror, admiring the dress which made her look more feminine than she had ever seen herself, she couldn't help but laugh. She looked so innocent and chaste, unlike the thoughts and urges that had been tormenting her all week. She tried not to enjoy the contrast, but the idea of hiding her dirty thoughts about being fucked by a faceless man that was surely the devil sent to tempt her was exhilarating. When the doorbell rang she was ready to go, and practically skipped to Jefferson's Mercedes.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

The bells tolled as everyone settled into their pews under the arched ceiling of the great cathedral. Emma held Jefferson's hand, just like all the couples around them, and patiently waited for the priest to approach the pulpit. She knew his name, but they had never met. In fact, now that she thought about it, she didn't even know what he looked like.

She noticed something stuck to the bottom of her cream colored heals and bent down to pick it off. Before her head could rise again she heard a silky, lilting accent resound throughout the cavernous space, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

Emma froze. Her whole body went rigid. She knew that voice. She had been hearing it in her head day in night for days. But it couldn't be, she reasoned, it simply wasn't possible. That voice wasn't real. It was just a figment of her imagination. A silly fantasy born out of a monotonous sex life and boredom in general.

She stayed where she was, terrified to look, but she answered the greeting along with the congregation, "Amen."

"The Lord be with you." said the priest, and Emma felt the blood drain from her face. It couldn't be. It was _fucking impossible_.

She closed her eyes as she answered, "And also with you." A hand slid up her back and gently rubbed her shoulders. It was Jefferson, most likely wondering if she was planning on staying there for the duration of the service. She sat up, keeping her eyes closed, and felt his arm snake around her waist, pulling her close. She could hear the distinct British voice perform the sprinkling of holy water and as he recited the words Emma took a deep breath finally opening her eyes as she replied, "Amen."

At the pulpit stood a man, hair black as night with blue eyes so striking they could cut diamonds. His face was covered in black stubble. Instantly she felt it on her skin. The rough scratch of his beard dragging against her neck as he nibbled at her tender skin.

He spoke with confidence and conviction, his sermon thundering throughout the room to an enraptured crowd. He spoke of temptation. He counseled love and understanding to those who transgressed, for none are innocent, and all are forgiven.

When his eyes locked with her she saw it all. His body, sculpted and scarred, covering her's with no barrier between them, his blue eyes looking into her soul as he drove into her, hitting a place inside no man had ever reached.

Mortified, Emma looked around, knowing that her face must be flushed. Suddenly, her faith kicked it. That classic Catholic guilt burst out of it's heavily repressed caged and licked up her spine like hellfire. She was lusting after a priest. _A priest!_ Could there be anything more blasphemous? She made the mistake of looking at him again and saw herself laid out on a bed, while his mouth devoured her core. She couldn't stop the thoughts that followed, as if a dam had been broken they all came flooding in. She could feel his tongue as it swirled around her clit and nearly whimpered when she felt him carefully take it between his teeth and and flick it rapidly with the tip.

Her chest heaved. There was a fire inside her, like the morning she had gone to Jefferson, only this time only one man would satisfy her, and it wasn't him.

Emma considered leaving. She could simply get up and step out, something people did all the time. But she couldn't take her eyes off him, and the more she looked at him the angrier she got. It was cruel for God to make a priest look like that. He was sex incarnate and completely untouchable. Thoughts of his fingers pulling a mind shattering orgasm from deep within her assaulted her vision. The guilt flared up again. These were terrible thoughts. _Sinful_ thoughts. Thoughts sent to test her faith. Little did she know, she wasn't the only one.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Father Jones was on fire. Every fiber of his being was lit up like the Fourth of July as he struggled through the steps that he had performed a thousand times. The woman in the pink dress, he had no idea who she was but the moment they had locked eyes his whole world had turned upside down. He was instantly thrust into a vision of her riding his cock in the confessional. Though she had never spoken to him, he could hear her wrecked voice loud and clear, moaning into his ear, "Fuck me, Father! Fuck me harder!"

If delivering mass weren't second nature to him he would have never made it through. The entire time he spoke of resisting the temptation to sin he was fantasizing about ramming into her wet cunt like an animal.

Something was terribly wrong. He'd never even been with a woman. He wasn't forceful or aggressive in any way, yet he could hear her cries as he roughly fucked her into his desk, enjoying the way she was struggling to take the whole thing. Every word he preached that Sunday morning was accompanied by her screams of pleasure echoing through the sanctuary as he ravished her on the sacred alter, the evidence of her arousal dripping onto the holy wood.

His erection was hidden by his robes but he felt it all the same. It ached to be inside her. To feel her walls clenched around him as she came apart on his command. "God help me," he said, and realizing he said it out loud he quickly added, "for we are all sinners here."

He had done it. He had made it through the entire mass without coming in his pants at the mere thought of the girl with the blonde ponytail writhing beneath him. A soft murmur rippled through the congregation in response to the strange and off-script ending, but Father Jones was long gone from the chapel before anyone could stop him.

When he reached his room in the small annex that served as his humble residence, he didn't make it another step. Slamming his back against the bolted door he reached under his robed and took himself in hand.

He couldn't remember the last time he had done it. The act was forbidden for all Catholics but especially priests. Never once had he been tempted by his vows but this siren was clearly a demon sent to destroy him, and he was weak.

He imagined her on her knees as he fucked her mouth like it belonged to him. Like he owned it. Like God made those beautiful lips just to service his cock whenever he wanted.

He came hard, wanting to shout her name, but he had no idea what it was. His head hit the door and he slid to the floor, weakened by his first orgasm in at least a decade. A curse left his lips, surprising him. Two words, vile and blasphemous, both foreign and familiar. "Bloody hell." he said, breathless and spent. The life he knew was over. He would never be the same. When he closed his eyes he saw her face and cursed her by His name.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

It was late that night when Emma returned to the church. She was still wearing her dress but had removed her panties after going through a few pairs throughout the day. Every agonizing second was spent trying not to see the scenes that were forced upon her. The tangle of sweaty limbs, the breathy moans and filthy words. As she walked up the Cathedral steps she felt her essence dripping down her leg, the shame of what she'd done tearing her apart.

She had to confess. She didn't have a choice. Every Catholic lived with the fear that they would die without absolution. Things happened every day. Car accidents, choking hazards, falling in the shower. She couldn't leave this world with the events of the day un-atoned for, so she slipped into the confession booth and hoped that the barrier between them would be enough for her to tell him everything. It was the only way. Only a priest could commune her confession to God, and he was the only one in town.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." she waited for his response but heard only silence. "Father?"

"Ahem, yes, my child."

Emma shifted in her seat, the moisture gathering once again at the sound of his intoxicating lilt. "I have committed a terrible transgression. I come to you for absolution."

"God forgives us all. Tell me your sin." he sounded slightly stiff, like he was holding something back.

Taking a deep breath she began, "I have had... impure thoughts. Blasphemous thoughts."

His response took just a moment too long, but it came eventually, "What kind of thoughts?"

She gulped, "Lustful thoughts, Father."

"I see." he said, sounding strange, "But I say to you, anyone who stares at a woman with lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart." then he added, "We must atone for the sins of the mind just as we must the sins of the body."

She nodded, knowing he could see her from his side. "It's not just my mind. Today I... I touched myself." she said quietly, shame making her head hang, "I touched myself and thought of him even though..."

He urged her to her continue, "Go on, my child."

"I..." she hesitated, "I have lusted after a man of God."

The pause that followed lasted a very long time. Finally he croaked, "Tell me. You cannot be forgiven until you confess your crimes in full. You must tell me... _everything._ "

She knew that he was right. She had to let it all out. It was the only way to make the crippling guilt go away. "I fantasized about him... doing things to me."

His voice low and rough, "What things?"

"He... he took me like I was his whore. And," she huffed, "fuck me, I liked it. I _loved_ it. I begged for more like some filthy slut." she laughed, "I don't beg very often Father. It's... not in my nature. But in my fantasy I begged him to fuck me harder."

"And did he?" he asked, sounding out of breath."

Her center was on fire. She was so close to him and his voice was bringing the images back to life. "Yes. I... I came all over my hand thinking about it, but it wasn't enough. I was still aching to be filled by a cock. And I wanted it to be _his_ cock. The thought of him forsaking his vows made me come again and it was so hard I screamed his name. I know that these thoughts were... _very_ sinful, and I know that I must atone for them-"

"Yes," the priest said, "You have committed a terrible sin, my child, and you... must be punished."

She gulped, unable to stop the thoughts of him torturing her in all sorts of ways. "H-how many Hail Marys, Father?"

He cleared his throat and she could hear him shuffling about on the other side of the partition, "W-well, in traditional Catholic law... the sin of lust was taken very seriously. The punishment often involved... physical pain."

Emma's pulse began to race at the implication, "Pain?"

"No more than necessary, of course. You said that in your fantasy he took you like you were his whore... I-i believe... that for your penance... you should... be punished like a whore. You should be bent over and spanked until your flesh is red and you have learned your lesson."

She thought she was going to pass out. A week ago her favorite position was missionary, now she fought the moan that tried to escape her throat at the thought of her priest spanking her into submission. "Will you... will you administer my punishment?"

His answered was curt and quick, "Wait for five minutes and then come to my office."

"Yes, Father." she replied as he slipped out of the booth.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Killian lounged in his chair. He had downed five shots of rum in less that two minutes and his limbs already felt heavy. What in the bloody fuck was he doing? He was a priest. He had taken a vow. And yet here he was, trying to contain a straining erection, while a woman was on her way to... God, what the hell was he doing?

He had known it was her the moment she'd spoken in that beautiful voice. Killian knew every voice in town and her's was unfamiliar. He didn't know where she'd come from or how it'd happened but the urge to act out her fantasy was just too great. He tried to tell himself that spanking had been a legitimate punishment in the Church for centuries and that he was acting as her priest and nothing more, but his body knew the truth.

When the door opened he didn't move. He simply took her in from head to toe. The pink dress, the modest heels, pale skin like porcelain. She looked so innocent and yet she was debauchery on legs.

He stood, resisting the urge to adjust his clerical collar, and gestured for her to close the door. She walked over to him, saying nothing, but he saw the longing there. The desperate want. He wanted to give her what she wanted. He wanted to give it to her until it hurt. His fists clenched tightly at his sides as he bit out, "Bend over the desk."

An adorable blush crept across her cheeks and she dutifully bent over bracing her hands on the large oak desk, but he surprised himself by pushing her down further until her upper body rested on top of the notebook he wrote his sermons in. Killian lifted her dress to find her bare and glistening. It was all he could do not to take her right there. "What's your name?" he asked, desperate to know.

"Emma," she answered, "Emma Swan."

"Emma," he said, reveling in the beauty of the word, "To atone for your sins is a gift, so you must..." he couldn't believe he was saying it, "you must thank me for your punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."

She was so compliant. A lustful, compliant little sinner, completely at his mercy. He touched the smooth skin of her arse. It felt incredible beneath his fingers. A part of him didn't want to destroy it, as he was most certainly about to do, but another part, a very dark part, wanted to mark her. He wanted to spank her so hard that every time she sat down she got wet at the memory. "Is this what you want?" he asked softly.

Emma looked back at him, green eyes blown wide with sinful urges, "Punish me, Father."

Killian pulled back his hand and brought it down on her creamy rump with a loud SLAP! The sound brought strange images. The sea. A ship. A dark cabin, and the hungry lips of a woman. He spanked her again and saw a desolate landscape. A beanstalk, like something out of a fairytale. He felt something rough and dry in his mouth, like cloth. _Now you're gonna be a gentlemen?_

His hand came down hard, making her yelp. He soothed the reddening skin trying to makes sense of the feelings within. He wanted to do such terrible things to her. He wanted to claim her body and use it beyond repair. He wanted her to gag on his cock and moan like she loved the taste, then he wanted her to swallow his seed and look at him with those green eyes while she did it.

These thoughts were completely foreign, and when he spoke his voice was not his own. It was as if someone else was speaking. Someone harsh and commanding. "You don't sound very grateful Miss Swan."

He spanked her again and this time she responded, "Thank you, Father."

"That's better." he barked. Something was wrong. His voice was deeper, his accent thicker. The filthy words continued to fall from his lips completely unbidden, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Yes, Father."

He smirked, "That's very sinful, to be aroused by a priest. You just can't control yourself, can you?" she cried out when he spank her tender flesh. His rings were leaving temporary indents in her skin that he wished he could permanently place them there. "Look at you. You're dripping wet."

She moaned, "Yes, Father."

"You must confess your lustful thoughts to me. Tell me what you want."

"Please touch me." she pleaded, without hesitation, "Please I need you-" she yelped at the spanking he dealt straight to her throbbing cunt.

"Is that what you want, Emma? You want me to fuck you like a dirty, sinful whore?"

"Yes!" she cried, and her desperation broke him, "Please fuck me, Father, I've never wanted anything more!"

He was unzipping his pants in an instant. "Spread your legs."

She did as he said, revealing her beautiful sex in all it's glory. Gobs of white essence dripped out of her folds which he could see pulsing slightly in anticipation. "My cock is very large, my child, and that will be your punishment. You will take it all, and you will submit to me in every way. Do you understand, Miss Swan?"

"Yes, Father." her legs were shaking. She was frightened, as she should be. He was going to take her hard. A decade of pent up frustration was about to be unleashed on her innocent body and he relished at the thought of claiming her with his hot seed.

Killian lined himself up, rubbing her back in slow circles to relax her. "Relax your body or this will hurt." he had meant for the words to be gentle and encouraging, but instead they were gruff and demanding, but she relaxed all the same and before she could tense up again he slid into her until he felt resistance. "Bloody hell." she was tight. Too tight. Her legs were shaking again as she tried to accommodate the stretch.

He was about to pull out when she whimper, "Don't stop." He looked at her in awe. She bit her lip, "Don't hold back. I can take my punishment."

The good Father didn't waste anymore time. He pushed inside her until he was fulling seated, hitting bottom as his balls coated themselves in her arousal. "Bloody buggering fucking hell." The woman fit him like a glove.

"Your cock is..." she moaned, "Ugh, your cock in incredible."

"Your cunt is something else." he pulled out and thrust back in, going deeper than before. She cried out but there was more pleasure than pain in the sound so he did it again, and again, and soon he was rocking into her, steady and deep, as she moaned like she loved it. He suddenly felt the need to push her to her limit, so his thrusts became quicker and more forceful. "Is this what you want? To be fucked by your priest?"

"Yes, Father, please fuck me!" He sped up, slamming into her while she made the most incredible sounds. He spanked her arse and to his surprise she dutifully replied, "Thank you, Father!"

"Oh, Miss. Swan, you have been a very bad girl, isn't that right?"

"Yes, Father."

"You've been craving my cock during mass, haven't you? I bet you thought about this when you received communion.

"I did!" she cried, "God, forgive me, I couldn't stop thinking about it!"

He went deeper, making her scream, He was thankful no one else was in the church that night.

"Oh, God, I'm gonna come."

"You will come on my cock," he said, "but not until I allow it. This is still your punishment and whores don't get to come until they've earned it."

"Yes, Father."

He fucked her hard. He fucked her until they were both on the brink and she was begging for release, but she did as she was told and didn't allow herself to fall apart until he was emptying himself inside her.

When Killian came down from his high he realized that she was still crying out in pleasure. He reached around and rubbed at her swollen clit, drawing out her spasming muscles that were milking every last drop from him like the greedy sinner that she was.

Killian sagged to the floor and dragged her with him, gathering her in his arms like a precious thing. He turned her so that he could look into her eyes and when he brought her hand up to his lips he felt cool metal.

The ring was silver with a single blue stone. He stared at it, trying to place where he'd seen it before.

_Marry me._

The words rang in his head, loud and clear. They were his words, he was sure of it, though he couldn't remember saying them.

She was squeezing her thighs together and wincing as she tried to get comfortable. Suddenly, Killian was consumed by guilt, "I'm sorry, did I... did I hurt you?"

"No!" Emma said quickly, I mean..." she blushed, "a little, but, in a good way."

He grabbed her face and kissed her hard, apologizing with his lips and tongue. Their mouths melded perfectly to one another as if they had kissed a thousand times and yet it felt like the first time he had ever kissed anyone at all. When he reluctantly pulled away he was breathless and needy for more, but he said, "I'm sorry but... you can't stay."

Emma looked down shamefully and he wished he hadn't said it. He didn't want her to go. He considered sneaking her into the annex, but it was too risky.

"I know, I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be sorry, love." he assured her, brushing some lose tendrils of hair from her face, "That was-"

"We probably shouldn't do that again."

It took a moment for him to process her words. Of course, she was right. What they had done was terrible. Sinful. He had forsaken his vows for a girl he didn't even know, even though it felt like he did. There was no way they could do such a thing again. He would seek absolution and would be forgiven, but he could not give in again.

Still, Killian found himself kissing her once more. He felt her arms around his neck and wished he could keep her there all night. "Never again." he promised, and helped her to her feet.

When she left he felt so alone. He had always been alone but this time he knew that she was out there. He knew what she felt like when her walls fluttered around his throbbing sex. He knew what she sounded like when she came undone because of him. Something had changed. He didn't feel the same. For a small moment he had felt strong and powerful, like a man who was a leader and lover. Killian had never known love, or so he had thought, but Emma Swan reminded him of something, something he couldn't remember. Something good and warm and safe. A home he had once had, perhaps. A place where he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated (unless you want to tell me I am a sinful, blasphemous Babylonian in which case, tell me something I don't know) And for the record, as someone who went to Catholic school for 12 years and skipped a LOT of class I can personality attest to the fact that the church still considers spanking (aka, the rod) a legitimate punishment (which is probably why I grew up to be Priest!Killian trash).


	4. More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh... this chapter got a little out of control. My muse pulled this out of a very dark place. Triggers include dub-con, dom/sub, and uh... just shameful filth in general. Enjoy!

Saturday night, Emma was having the most incredible dream.

_She was dancing. The room was beautiful. It had tall ceilings and ornate chandeliers showering golden light over the marble floor. She was wearing a red dress that made her feel more beautiful than she ever had, and in her arms was Father Jones._

_He wasn't dressed like a priest. He wore a long coat of fine cloth, like a prince from a storybook. He was smiling at her from ear to ear. It made her feel warm and happy all over._

_Then they were somewhere else. A hallway, dark and quiet, the muffled sound of music coming from the other side of the wall at her back._

" _Emma, I need you." he said, and it was almost a whine._

"Here _? she said breathlessly, his hands were gripping her so tight she could feel him through her corset._

" _Yes. Here." he said firmly, kissing her hard._

_She let him devour her, their mouths working in perfect sync until her lips were swollen and tender from the burn of his delicious stubble. "Hook..." she murmured and he kissed her neck, nibbling and licking and sucking her sensitive skin._

" _Call me Killian." he said, "I want you to say my real name when you fall."_

 _Suddenly, his hand was under her dress, prying her legs apart and lazily massaging her folds. When she was panting for him he entered her with two fingers, scissoring them hard making her bite her lip. He began to do the most incredible things. He bent his digits back and forth, rubbing so forcefully on her sweet spot she saw stars as her muscles began to spasm. "Killian..." she moaned helplessly, "_ Killian _... Killian!"_

" _Shh..." he purred, "Have to be quiet, love, unless you want everyone at this ball to find out what a naughty, naughty princess you are."_

_She moaned softly at his words, letting them wash over her causing her clit to throb just as his thumb began to rub it in time with his fingers._

" _Perhaps your father will catch us. Perhaps dear old Dave will get to see me defiling his precious daughter like a-"_

" _Don't say it!" she cried breathlessly, trying to ignore her own want._

_He grinned wickedly and said into her ear, "Like a whore."_

_Her muscles spasmed suddenly and his eyes lit up._

" _Oooh, you like that word, don't you? That's what I'll make you." he said cockily, riding his ego like a steed, "A submissive little whore fit for a pirate."_

" _Say it again." she whined, needing to hear the dirty words once more._

" _You're my whore, Emma. My filthy, compliant whore."_

" _I shouldn't want it, but..."_

_His fingered started pumping into her, angling so they hit the spot like no one ever had. "But you're tired of being in control. You're tired of being the strong one. Let me be strong. Let me dominate you, Emma. Let me possess you like the treasure that you are. Succumb to me, darling. Let me watch you fall apart on my fingers."_

_Finally her body succumbed just as he'd demanded. The orgasm pulsed deep within her making tears fall from her eyes as the borderline excruciating waves wracked her body. She screamed but he covered her mouth firmly with his hand muffling the agonized wail, still pumping into her so that the sensation lasted so long she thought she might be coming twice._

_When she came down she was shaking. Her legs were weak and her body felt limp in his arms. He kissed her lazily, easing her back to reality, then, when her breathing had steadied he whispered in her ear, "Get on your knees."_

Emma woke with a start, as she had every morning for the past week. The dreams were never the same, but they were always about him. It seemed her penchant for pirates had turned her fantasies from priests to captains, leaving her wondering how she was going to manage never seeing Father Jones again.

The night in his office was all she could think about. She was so ashamed. The things she had said in the confessional, the way she had begged to be punished, to be spanked like a naughty child... It was all too much. It would take a lifetime of penance to atone for that transgression... and yet...

She wanted him still. She swore she could still feel what he had done to her ass. Every time she sat down she was assaulted with the memory of him ruthlessly doling out her punishment.

She quickly sat up and got out of bed, throwing on her clothes. There was only one place that could make her forget: her garden.

As she pruned her rose bushes the thoughts faded away. She always felt so safe surrounded by the beautiful pink flowers. Emma plucked a bloom and brought to her face, inhaling deeply.

_Suddenly, she was somewhere else, surrounding by the same flowers. Father Jones was on top of her, completely bare, rolling his hips into her slowly._

" _Tell me you love me." he said, and though it was said like a command, she knew it wasn't._

_Emma didn't speak. She was afraid._

" _Say it, Emma. Please, love, let me hear it, just once."_

" _I..." the words stuck in her throat._

" _It's alright. You can do it. I know that you do. I just want to hear it. I love hearing it. I won't ask again."_

_He was begging, and it broke her heart._

" _Tell me you love me." he pleaded._

" _I... I..."_

"Mom?"

Emma jumped, pulled from her vision by a voice. She looked around, then she looked down. "Henry, what the hell are you doing here?!"

"The queen is at the store. I wanted to see how mass went."

Her cheeks went red. She stuttered, "It was... I... You shouldn't just walk into people's house, kid."

"You saw him, didn't you? You felt it?"

She tried to think of a reply. She wanted to say no. There was no way the young boy could have predicted what happened that night. And if he had... that thought made her skin grow even more flushed. "Henry, I don't know what you're talking about."

"The Priest! Father Jones! Did you recognize him?"

"No!" she shouted, too flustered to regulate her emotions, "Father Jones seems like a very nice man but I have never seen him before in my life so let it the fuck go, Henry!"

The boy blinked in surprise at her outburst.

She took a deep breath, "I'm sorry, kid, but whatever is going on with you it has nothing to do with me _or_ Father Jones."

He looked frustrated, his brow furrowed deeply. "I think you're lying." He said petulantly, "I think you saw him and you felt something and you don't want to admit it."

"Henry, he's a priest!"

"No, he's not!" he shouted, stomping his foot, "He's a pirate! He's Captain Hook! I know that's hard to believe but-"

"Dammit, Henry, this is out of control! He is not-" she stopped, comprehending his words, "Wait... what did you say?"

"He's Captain Hook, from the story! You met him in the enchanted forest which is where all true love couples meet because that's where the happy ending are from! At first you didn't like him but..."

Emma couldn't hear what he was saying. Her mind was racing.

_A submissive little whore fit for a pirate._

No. It couldn't be. It was crazy. Impossible.

 _Hook,_ she had moaned wantonly in his arms. She could still feel the word leaving her tongue.

"His ring!" Henry shouted, bringing her out of her feverish thoughts.

"W-what?" she said, dazed.

He grabbed her left hand, "This is his ring! He gave it to you! He took you out on his ship and asked you to marry him on the day the queen cast the curse. I know because he asked my permission before he did it."

"Oh, Henry, listen to me. I want to believe you, I do. I want to believe that I have a true love out there somewhere who's going to kiss me and wake me up from this life but that's just not how life works."

"Why are you so stubborn?! Why is it so hard for you believe?! I know you felt something, no matter what you say."

Emma stood up straight. It was time to put an end to this. "Henry, It's time for you to go, and please, don't come back."

With an angry huff, the furious child stomped out of the garden disappearing inside the house but before he was out of earshot he screamed back at her, "I guess you're gonna make me do this the hard way!"

She stood there for several minutes simultaneously trying to process what had just happened and not think too hard about the strange details. She tried to convince herself that her visions were just a coincidence, but doubt lingered in her heart which could still smell the fragrant blooms surrounding her as he said the hopeful words over and over in her ear.

_Tell me you love me._

KEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma walked into the church like an inmate down death row. She didn't know how she would make it through, but she had to see him again. When he took to the pulpit he found her eyes immediately. She could see the fire in them as he gripped the blonde wood so tight she could see the whites of his knuckles.

When Jefferson lazily wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, she tried to get comfortable in his embrace. He kissed her forehead chastely, sweetly, and the look on Father Jones' face made her tremble where she sat. He looked like he might charge down the steps any moment and pound her boyfriend to a bloody pulp. She couldn't imagine that a priest would be capable of such a thing, and yet she knew that he was. She could read his expression as if it were an open book. He was furious. He was _jealous_. It made her feel hot and restless.

KEKEKEKEKEKE

She had to see him. Emma had to tell him in no uncertain terms that there was nothing between them. That he was a priest and she was in a committed relationship and humoring this craziness would only destroy their lives both mortal and eternal.

She opened the door on Thursday night, long after the sun had set. He was up on the dais, practicing his sermon to an invisible crowd, speaking with sincerity and conviction. She stood in the back at first, just listening to his musical voice until finally she stepped out of the shadows and walked towards him with determined steps.

He didn't say a word as she approached, holding her gaze until she was standing before him in front of the sacred alter.

"Emma-"

"Don't." she said firmly, "Just let me speak."

He closed his mouth and gave a slight nod indicating his compliance.

"There is _nothing_ between us, Father. I know what happened was..." she blushed, remember pleasure pain that had accompanied every strike of his hand, " _intense,_ " she finished, "but it cannot happen again. It was wrong and sinful, and we both deserve-"

"What is it that you think you, deserve, _Miss Swan_?" the way he said her name made her stomach drop. It was spiteful and full of loathing that she didn't want to hear. He continued, speaking harshly while circling her like a predator. "Is it that rich ponce who you let put his hands all bloody over you?"

She became angry. He had no right. "Jefferson is my boyfriend. He's allowed to put his hands on me whenever he wants."

Emma could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears. His mouth was a straight line, his eyes wild with jealousy. He took a step towards her, and another, backing her up until her legs hit the alter. "Does he know that you like to be spanked? Hm?" she shivered, but refused to answer. He put his hands on her, feeling the curves of her body like a blind man. When he spoke again it was soft and low, sending lightning bolts into her stomach, "Does he know that you can't stop thinking about me."

"W-what? I- N-no, no I-I... I don't-" Emma cleared her throat nervously. He was standing flush with her now, pressing her into the heavy wooden tabled. She reached back and could feel the intricate designs carved into its surface. Holy words and symbols meant to make it a sacred object, purified for ritual. "I don't think about you."

"You're lying."

"I'm not, I-"

He cut her off with his mouth, dragging her headfirst into a heated kissed that set her body on fire. He growled as their tongues met, pulling her deeper until she was putty in his arms. Then, before she could react he hoisted her up onto the alter and laid her back, crushing her with his chest. She tried to push him off but he was strong and her efforts were half-hearted at best. Her body wanted him, that she couldn't deny, but as his hand reached under her black cotton dress and ripped her panties off of her with a loud tearing sound she cried out, "No, not here! It's wrong!"

He panted heavily above her, his forehead resting on hers, "I have to have you." he growled.

"But," she said desperately as he removed his pants without giving her any room to escape, "You took a vow."

He was already throwing his shirt and collar across the room as he replied, "Fuck those bloody vows." He lifted her with surprising strength and pulled her dress off her body, followed quickly by her bra. "Excommunication, ostracism, damnation... Whatever price there is to pay for this, I will gladly pay it. In this life, or the next."

She could feel him hard against her thigh, already nudging at her entrance. "Please, Father, we'll be damned forever!"

"You are _mine_ , Miss Swan, and I'll take you _whenever_ and _however_ I like."

"Please," she moaned even as her legs wrapped around him, urging him inside, "It's so wrong."

"And you want it," he purred, "you want to be fucked in this holy place." He slid home easily as her body was more than willing even though her mind was screaming at her to resist.

When he started to thrust her moans echoed through the large space, filling the place with the sound of their debauchery. The slapping of skin, the slurping of their sloppy kisses, her keening cries that were the epitome of lust. She felt him bite down on her neck as he hit bottom making her see stars. "There!" she shouted, "Right there!" then she came to her senses. It wasn't right to commit this act where they were. She couldn't let herself feel pleasure from such a thing. It was too wrong. Too sinful. And it would make it real. So she fought her body's natural responses to the large head of his cock rubbing against her favorite spot. She resisted the pulsing that was starting deep within her, trying to hold on to what little control she had.

"Come for me, Emma." he demanded, "Come all over this bloody alter so that I can spend eternity in hell with my blasphemous little whore."

"I shouldn't!" she cried desperately, her limbs shaking with the effort of holding back the tidal wave, "It's wrong, it's so wrong!"

"Come for me!" he ordered, driving into her faster and deeper, making her sob. Her body was begging her to let go, but the guilt was too much.

"No." she gasped, "I won't let myself."

He sucked hard on her neck, biting down until she begged him to be merciful, then he said in a dark and sinister voice, "Then I'll have to make you." He stood up straight, looking down at her with his piercing blue eyes, and grabbed her firmly by the waist.

He began slamming her onto his cock like he was trying to fuck the life out of her. She felt the pulsing began. There was no way se could contain it. He was so large and it felt so incredibly good. She pleaded with him, "Please, no! I want to be a good girl."

"Oh but you're not a good girl. You are a lustful woman. You have damned my soul, Emma. You have enslaved my mind and so now I will make your body my slave. When I tell you to come undone on my cock you will do it whether you want to or not.

"I can't come on my priest's cock." she sobbed, "I'll feel so filthy."

"When you come I want you to confess to me that you are a dirty blasphemous whore who comes when she's told to. If you don't I will make you come again, and again, and again until your beautiful cunt is destroyed and you are begging me to stop because your body can't take anymore. And then I'll make you come one more time, just to teach you a lesson."

Her body began to tremble, the warmth creeping from her core. "Please, Father!" she begged pathetically but she was already clenching hard around him, giving into the euphoria that overtook her.

"There it is!" he shouted with glee as he continued to thrust violently into her, "That's my obedient slave. Come on, Emma," he cheered, "Confess to me!"

The guilt washed over her and the intense, mind numbing pleasure made her cry out, "God, please forgive me, I'm a dirty blasphemous whore who comes when she's told and I love getting fucked by my priest!"

He spilled himself inside her as she made her sinful confession. She could feel his hot seed shoot straight into her core as the aftershocks of her release warmed her skin and left her boneless on the alter.

After a moment, the priest picked her up and pulled her to the floor, laying her out and kissing her like he was dying of thirst and she was a mountain spring. When he pulled away she noticed something that made her mouth go dry.

"What is that?" she asked, pointing to his chest.

"Oh, I've had this thing for as long as I can remember." he replied, looking down at the pink rose tattooed on his chest, above his heart.

"What does it mean?" she asked quietly, running her fingers over the colored skin. The flower looked exactly like the ones in her garden.

"I uh..." he laughed, scratching shyly behind his ear, "Truthfully, I don't know. I don't even remember getting it."

Emma giggled, "A rake and a drunk."

"Rake?!" he exclaimed, playfully squeezing her bare ass, "I'll have you know that I have only been with one woman."

He kissed her but she pulled away, her brow furrowed, "What?" she said, "No. That's not possible."

He smirked at her, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, "It's true."

"I don't believe that."

"Why not?"

"Because how do you know how to..." she searched for the words, "...do all of that."

He shrugged and threw out cockily, "I suppose I'm a natural."

Emma sent him a doubtful look. There was no way that could be true, but she let him have his lie.

"Sleep in my bed tonight." he said, his voice broken with emotion as he trailed kissed along the contours of her face.

She closed her eyes and reveled in the soft brushes of his lips against her skin, "I shouldn't..."

"Please," he begged, "please, I want to hold you as I fall asleep."

Emma sighed heavily, giving in. "Just this once." He pulled back to smile at her, then pulled her up and swept her off her feet. "What about my clothes?" she laughed, not really caring.

"No one will find them, I promise, and as long as we're alone you are to be completely bare at all times, do you understand?"

He was laughing to and as they walked towards the hall that led to his residence she snuggled into his neck inhaling the familiar scent of rum and musk. "Yes, Father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Reviews are awesome and the response I get will determine the length of this piece.


	5. The Magic Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm messing with the timeline. The last chapter happened on Thursday night, but I decided I didn't want Emma going to work the next day, so I'm changing it to Friday night. This chapter starts on Saturday morning.

" _I'll find you, Emma." he said, the wind whipping his raven hair into a frenzy, "I swear to all the gods that I will find you and I will marry you." He brought her left hand to his lips and kissed the ring that he had placed there. She'd said that she didn't want a ring, that she wasn't the jewelry type, but he'd said he wanted the world to know that she was his and only his, so she relented._

" _You don't know that." Emma replied, looking out over the water at the purple fog headed their way._

" _I do." he said and kissed her hard, gripping the back of her neck. His tongue demanded entry and she found herself in a fierce dance of needy lips. He pulled away but didn't go far. His lips brushed hers as he commanded in a soft voice, "Say it for me. One last time." Emma chased his lips but he moved them out of reach, keeping his forehead to hers. "Say it, Emma. Say it and when I hear it I'll remember."_

" _What makes you so sure our love is enough?"_

_He pulled back, looking at her as if she had said the Earth was flat. "Darling..." his hand came up to stroke her face and with a hopeful smile he said, "Do you think this sort of thing happens everyday?"_

_She felt her heart skip a beat. He kissed forehead and said again, "Say it for me."_

_The tears were streaming down her face. She couldn't lose him again. "I don't want to live without you!"_

_The cloud was close. It's roar almost deafening. "You won't have to, love! Not for very long! Say it, Emma! Don't be afraid!"_

_Emma wrapped her arms around his neck as tight as she could, knowing they would be ripped apart soon. She wanted to say it. She wanted to tell him. As the cloud rolled over the deck of the ship she yelled into the wind, "Killian, I-"_

Emma woke with a start. Her heart was pounding, her face wet with tears. She felt hands on her naked body and became afraid.

"It's alright, Emma!" Father Jones said. His small room was dark, she couldn't see a thing and it was making it hard to come out of her dream. Her hands reached out for him.

"It's coming!" she sobbed, "We have to go, we have to run!"

"Emma!" His arms pulled her into a tight embrace, "Calm down, darling, it was just a dream." He kissed her gently, whispering comforter things in her ear. When she finally came to her senses, Emma let herself fall into the sensations of his body against her. She ran her fingers through his chest hair and reveled in the burn his stubble left on her skin. Her legs spread so that he could settle between them, trapping her with his hard frame as they kissed deep and slow.

She didn't realize how worked up she was until he touched her. She yelped in surprise. It was like being shocked. Her sex was tender and raw. Emma moaned. The knowledge that he had abused her flesh so thoroughly was intoxicating. She hadn't been fucked like that in her entire life, and yet, it felt more like she _had_ been fucked like that, long ago, and had been craving such ruthless lovemaking ever since. One thing was for certain: Jefferson would never satisfy her again. He touched her again and she flinched.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." he cooed, "I can be gentle." and started to kiss his way slowly down her body. "Let me worship you, my goddess."

Emma couldn't help but smirk, "I thought I was a whore."

"Mary Magdalene was a whore." he said, "Besides, you're not _a_ whore, you're _my_ whore. Only mine." The priests lips made their way to her swollen folds and slowly licked her sensitive flesh. The sensation hovered on the border between enough and too much. She whimpered when he began to circle her clit, keening helplessly when he latched on sucked hard as he pulled her shaking legs over his shoulders.

"Killian!" she cried out, and nearly sobbed when his mouth left her. She looked down. He was staring at her wide-eyed and perplexed. Emma became flustered. What would he think of her? Calling out another man's name.

"Yes." he said, voice full of want and brutal desire, "Say my name this time, Emma. My real name, I want to hear you scream it."

She was confused but then his mouth was on her again and she was moaning through her pleasure. Just like in her vision, he took her swollen bundle of nerves gently between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue. Emma cried out "Killian!" as she fell apart, and when he didn't stop, forcing her orgasm to last, she found herself nearly tearing the hairs from his head.

Once she had floated back to Earth he nuzzled into her neck, breathing deeply as if he wanted to inhale her entire being. "I'll tell Sister Astrid I'm sick today." he murmured, "I don't want to leave this room."

She laughed, running her fingers through his silky hair, "Won't I be caught if I don't leave soon?"

"Not if you stay until late tonight. I can sneak you out after the nuns go to bed."

"Jefferson is picking me up at six. I have to take a shower and-" Emma stopped. Killian's fingers were digging into her skin. His body had gone stiff. When he looked up at her she saw fury and rage.

"You're still..." he seethed, chest heaving, "You're still seeing him?"

Emma thought about it. "What do you want me to do? Break up with my boyfriend of..." she tried to remember how long she'd been dating Jefferson. She knew it was a long time, but the beginning was fuzzy, "...ten years for a man I can never have?"

"You can't see him again. What if he tries to touch you?" he asked sincerely.

She scoffed, "I told you, that's something he's allowed to do."

"Not anymore!" he shouted.

"That's not fair!" was her reply, the anger boiling over suddenly and without warning, "Jefferson has been there for me for as long as I can remember and I may not love him but I know that he will continue to be there when I need him, not just when he needs a hole to stick his cock in!" Emma pushed him off of her and crawled out of the small bed. Her legs buckled as soon as she tried to stand. They were jelly, absolutely boneless. Her insides were sore, her inner thighs aching from bruises left by her lover's forceful thrusts.

Before she could stop him he was picking her up, "You can't even walk." he said, "Stay with me, I'll take care of you until you feel better."

"You did this to me!" she shouted, "You have ruined me! Both my body and my soul!"

"Good!" he yelled back, even as he supported her weight, "I truly hope you are ruined, Emma Swan, because if any man ever so much as looks at you again-"

"You'll what?!" she shouted, tearing her way out of his arms and falling against the wall for support, "Kill him?"

"Aye!" he growled.

"You wouldn't. You're a priest."

"What's one more sin? After what we did? Nothing can redeem either one of us now."

Emma grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled in on, struggling to stay upright. "I have no family, Killian. No friends. Don't you get it? I need _someone_. Someone I can count on. And you're..." she looked at him in the early morning light. His hair was disheveled and he looked dumbstruck, like he was truly surprised that she wasn't giving up a stable relationship just because it wasn't as exciting as fucking a priest. Jefferson might be boring, but what they were doing was incredibly reckless and stupid. It would never last. She had to end it. She took a deep breath, "You are married to the church, Father Jones," the words had to be forced out, "and I don't want to be your mistress." He looked stricken, but she forced herself to stand up straight and say firmly, "I'm going to do what I always do on Saturday and that's be with my boyfriend."

"He'll know." he said darkly, "I left my mark all over your body, he'll know that you were with someone else!"

He huffed a laugh, "What's one more lie?"

"You're a bad liar, Miss Swan."

"AND YOU'RE A FUCKING TERRIBLE PRIEST!" she screamed before leaving his home as fast as her weak legs could carry her.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma spent nearly all day soaking in the tub. Her body ached from head to toe. There were bruises from Killian's love bites peppering her pale skin and as she lay in the warm water she touched every one, remembering the little shocks of pleasure pain that had accompanied each nibble.

She didn't work in the garden that day. Instead, after calling Jefferson to tell him that she wasn't feeling well, she curled into her bay window and opened her book. Tyga lay at her feet, napping in the sun as she read.

_In the middle of this gang of villains, resting in a rough chariot pulled by his men, is the blackest and most terrifying of all pirates, James Hook. Instead of a right hand, he has an iron hook which he raises into the air to get his men to travel more quickly. He treats them like dogs and as dogs they obey him utterly._

_James_. Emma thought, _Not Killian. James._

Something about it didn't sound right. She couldn't seem to stop dreaming about Father Jones as Captain Hook. How she'd known his name was beyond her, but Emma reasoned she'd overheard it somewhere at some point.

"You really should start locking your door."

Emma nearly jumped out of her skin, "Henry!" she screamed at the boy was standing innocently next to her. She sighed heavily and groaned, "What do you want?"

"I brought you something."

"Whatever it is, I don't want it."

"I know." Henry smiled and dumped an enormous leather-bound book on Emma's lap.

"Hey! What the hell?!"

"Look!" he shouted, opening the cover. He flipped through a few pages and stopped on an illustration of what appeared to be a wedding. "These are your parents."

"Ah, kid, I really don't want to do this today."

"Just look at it!" he insisted stomping his foot. Emma rolled her eyes and looked at the page. The picture was beautiful and stylistic, but unfamiliar. "Their names are Snow White and Prince Charming. In this world they go by Mary Margaret and David."

" _David?_ You mean... the mechanic? You think he's my dad?"

"I know he is. I don't know where your mom is, though. I can't find her anywhere in town." Emma shot him a dubious look, but Henry went on, jabbing his finger at the printed words, "This book is full of true stories. I want you to read them."

She flipped through the creamy pages, "These are all fairytales."

"I labeled them," he said, indicating the colorful tabs that decorated the margins, "so that you would know who's who."

She sighed, closing the book with a heavy thud. "Henry, I don't want this book."

"I know. But I know you, Emma Swan. You're going to read it, because you're the savior, and you can sense something is wrong. You've sensed it ever seen you met Father Jones."

"What?!" Emma balked, "Henry, Father Jones and I haven't done anything, I swear!" she spat out quickly.

"Ew, I don't want to know! Just-" Henry winced, clearly trying to hold back a mental image, "Just... when it comes to the priest, I want you to follow your instincts and keep the details to yourself. It's bad enough that I came home early on Valentine's Day that one time. Now, I'm gonna come back tomorrow, and hopefully you will have your memories back. If not, I'll have to try something else." Henry stomped out of the house before a bewildered Emma could respond.

She looked down at the book. Its pages were thick. On the cover it read, _Once Upon a Time_. She ran her finger down the line of neon tabs than ran down the side. One said, _JEFFERSON_. She opened the book to that page, allowing it to settle in her lap as she crossed her sore legs. The tab brought her to a story about the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland, but it was a story Emma had never heard. The tale was terribly sad. The man had spent years trying to get back to his daughter. He was wracked with crippling guilt that left him hollow and empty in every way. Without his daughter he was truly alone.

Emma sniffed and wiped away a single tear. _What a terrible book,_ she thought, _What kind of a fairytale doesn't have a happy ending?_ Emma looked through the tabs again. She turned to a page marked, _RUBY._ That story was even worse. In it, Red Riding Hood was a werewolf that accidentally ate her boyfriend.

"Jeez." Emma said, "No wonder this kid is fucked up. Where did he get this thing?" That was when she spotted a bright blue tab marked, _OR TIME._ Emma read the story of how Snow White and Prince Charming met. Snow White was trying to escape the Evil Queen by buying safe passage out of the Enchanted Forest. She went to a ship captain who refused to give his name. Emma looked at the illustration of a man's silhouette, framed eerily by the moonlight coming through the window of his cabin as Snow tried to pay him, but the captain refused. He said he wanted something specific. A ring. The ring that Prince Charming was going to give to his bride.

Snow snuck into a ball at King Midas's castle. While everyone was dancing, she stole the ring and almost got away, but was spotted. Emma's heart raced as she read the words. Snow fled on horseback as an arrow whizzed past her head, missing her only by inches. Little did she know, she had left the ring behind. Emma was so engrossed in the story that she didn't even notice the illustration until she went to turn the page.

Emma's breath caught in her throat. She suddenly felt very, very cold. The illustration was of a couple. They were dancing and looking into each other's eyes. The man's was a look of love and utter adoration, the woman's was similar, but more broken and mixed with fear. Her dress was bright red and on her blonde head was a tiara. The bottom of the picture read: _Prince Charles and Princess Leia._

Emma laughed. This book must be a joke. But even so, she ran her hands across the smooth page. Something about the image made her feel incredibly warm and inexplicably safe. She thought of Father Jones and was suddenly overcome with the urge to be in his arms again. She closed her eyes and imagined his lips against hers. _Emma, I need you,_ she heard him say, _Call me Killian._

_She felt his name leave her throat over and over again. He was touching her. It felt so incredible. Emma never thought simply being held could feel so satisfying. He kissed her with passion, she could feel his stubble on her lips. His hand was in between her legs, roughly pleasuring her from the inside._

Emma opened her eyes, breathing hard. She wanted him. Now. But she couldn't. Not after their fight. Instead she flipped to a page in the book labeled, _HOOK._

It was a strange swashbuckling tale of pirates and demons and sword fights and betrayals. This story made Emma angry. Furious, in fact. She hated the woman called Milah. Why she was the love interest in a fairytale was beyond Emma. She was a cheating, manipulative, and cruel person who did not deserve the captain. When the pirate introduced himself to the Imp her vision blurred. Emma had to read that part several times. The Captain introduced himself as: Killian Jones.

She shook her head, trying to find reality. How on Earth had this kid made this book? Had he written it himself? And what was the point? Emma read on. She was secretly thrilled when Milah died, leaving a heartbroken Killian Jones to become the fearsome Captain Hook. Emma longed to comfort him, and ached at the thought of him pining for someone else. She was jealous, she realized. Jealous of a fictional character.

That was when the doorbell rang.

Emma looked up. It was dark outside. The day had disappeared while her nose had been stuffed in Henry's silly book. She looked at her watch.

 _9:00?!_ She gasped, then jumped at the sound of pounding on her door.

When she opened her front door, Emma wasn't surprised at all. "Where is he?!" Father Jones slurred, "I'll beat his bloody brains out!" Emma rolled her eyes as the priest staggered past her into the house. "JEFFERSON!" he bellowed, "I'm sorry to do this, mate!"

"Jefferson isn't here, Father."

He stopped searching for her boyfriend and looked at her quizzically.

"I told him I wasn't feeling well." she said.

A bleary grin spread across, his face, "Thank God"

"Yeah, well you really did a number on me last night and I couldn't exactly explain why I'm covered in bruises."

Killian wasn't listening. He was kissing her. He pushed her roughly up against the door. She tried not to let herself get dragged into the kiss but she couldn't help it. He devoured her like a hungry animal and left her panting for more. "Every time I close my eyes I see your face." he said in a rush between breaths, "I hear your voice saying things to me... things I want to believe."

She shrieked in surprise when he ripped open her shirt sending the white buttons flying across the room. Next came her pants and cotton briefs which she helped kick off. She expected him to touch her once she was completely bare, but he didn't. Instead he ran his fingers through her hair and said, "Do you like pirates, lass?"

Emma blinked. Of all the things he could have said, she hadn't expected that. Without thinking she answered, "Y-yes."

"Yes, what?" he demanded spanking her hard.

Emma cried out and replied on instinct, "Yes , Captain!"

She bit her lip to quell the tears that welled in her eyes from the sting of his hand. She gulped. He was too drunk to realize how rough he was being. She shouldn't do this. It was dangerous. _He_ was dangerous. When he stroked her face she shuddered. "Aye," he said, "that's right. I'm your captain. I have bought you for the night. Your body is mine until morning. Yes?" Emma nodded, both frightened and excited. "Here's how it goes on my ship: I give the orders you follow them. Is that understood?" She nodded again but he spanked her this time.

"Yes, Captain!"

"Get on your knees." he commanded.

Emma obeyed, falling to her knees. He undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. Her eyes widened. She had never seen him in such a way, never realized how truly large he was. She licked her lips.

"You will take it all," he instructed, "every inch." Emma nodded, awestruck by his girth. She could feel the ache in her jaw already. "Open." She opened wide and let him run his dripping head around the circle of her lips, painting her with his precum. "Don't move." he said, "I'm going to fuck your mouth." He entered her. Emma relaxed her throat so that he could slide himself up to the hilt. Her nose pressed against him and he held her there until she gagged. He slid out, then thrust back in, this time shallow. His movements became quick as he entangled his fingers at the nape of her neck. "Oh, Emma you sweet whore. I think I just might keep you. You'll be locked in my cabin for me to use when I see fit. You'll suck my cock whenever I like. I'll fuck your mouth while I sail the bloody ship." Emma focussed on keeping her jaw wide and her lips tight. She sucked in her cheeks and used her tongue until she could feel him throbbing. At that point he hauled her up by the hair and pushed her up against the door. "Yes, I think you're a fine set of holes to keep me warm at night on the lonely seas." then his commanding voice broke unexpectedly when he said, "Will you come away with me, Emma?" He kissed her before she could answer, parting only to ask, "Will you sail away with me? We can go someplace where no one can stop us from being together."

"Y-you... you mean... leave Storybrooke?"

"Aye," he replied, "as long as we live in this town, people will judge us for what we've done. But if we go somewhere else, we can be together in peace. We can tell people that we met at the bank or the park or whatever the bloody fuck we want. No one would have to know."

She looked up into his stormy blue eyes, trying to catch her breath, "Does... does that mean... you want to be with me? I'm mean... you would-"

"I would have to leave the church. I would lose everything. Emma, I don't care. I have never wanted anything more than I've wanted this." he kissed her hard.

She smiled and repeated her own words as he kissed her neck, "You want to be with me."

"Be with you?" he said, pulling away, "Emma, I want to _marry_ you."

She gasped, "Killian, that's crazy! We've only just met each other!"

"I don't care. I know what I want. There's nothing left for me in this life." he kissed her again and she followed his movements, molding her lips to his willingly. " _Swan_." he breathed, and Emma saw a room filled with treasure. She could hear him yelling after her, _SWAN!_

"I'm afraid." she confessed. The emotions within her were beyond reason. It made no sense.

"I know, love, but we'll do it together. No one can stop me from having you. I'll burn down the whole bloody world if I have to."

She laughed incredulously, "You really are a terrible priest."

He caught her lips against, kissing her with purpose. She yanked out his collar and peeled his shirt from his shoulders. When he was naked she moved to push him towards the stairs but he slammed her roughly back into the door, "I want you here. Now." he growled and she felt moisture coat her thighs at the gravel in his voice.

Emma surprised herself by moaning breathlessly, "Fuck me, Captain."

He hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and lined himself up with her entrance. He'd never taken her without foreplay before. She realized she was holding her breath when he said soothingly, "Relax. This will be tight."

When he entered her she gasped, sobbing at the stretch. It was so close to too much, but after a few deep breaths she felt her body accommodate him. He reached down between them and rubbed at her clit making her moan.

"Once I start," he gasped, "I won't be able to stop."

"It's ok." she said, running her fingers through his hair, "Use me, Killian. Take whatever you need from my body, it's yours."

"Mine?" he asked as he began to move.

"Yes, yours. Always."

He began fucking her hard. The door rattled behind her and he angled himself to hit that special spot deep inside her. Emma cried out. She shouldn't be doing this. Her body had reached its limit, but she couldn't get enough. He was still playing with her, but it was the words he spoke that drove her over the edge. In an authoritative voice he made his demands, "You will never touch another man again. Your body is for me and only me. I won't have anyone else touching my things. Your pleasure is mine. You will never come without my permission again. Every time you touch yourself when I'm not there you will beg me over the phone to allow you release."

He was filling her so completely. She saw white as he somehow went deeper, sending her down the rabbit hole. She cried out, "May I come, Captain?" but it was too late. She was already riding wave after wave of pleasure as it washed over her.

He laughed enthusiastically, "You're a greedy girl, Emma Swan. You just can't help yourself, can you?"

"No." she said wearily, her head lolling from side to side.

"Fuck, Emma. What the bloody hell have you done to me? How can I love a woman I've just met."

She went limp in his arms, "W-what?"

"I love you, you stupid woman. As if you could possibly not know. You have bewitched me like a siren, and I go happily to the depths."

Emma tried to focus on what he was saying and not the warm feeling that was gathering in her stomach. He loved her. She should have been frightened, but she wasn't. She wanted to say it, but the words stuck in her throat. Logic did battle with her heart. It wasn't possible to love someone after so short a time, and yet she could feel it in her bones. She never wanted to be without him, never again. Emma gripped his shoulder tightly as he pounded her harder.

"Come for me, Emma. Come around my cock. I want to watch you fall apart." he hit that spot for the hundredth time and she shattered around him. The orgasm overtook her like a tidal wave, slamming into her from the inside out. "Thank you, Captain!" she cried, barely able to hear herself, "Thank you, Killian." she added. The words were coming out unbidden as he fucked her through it. When it was finally over and the aftershocks were making her shiver in his arms between lazy thrusts he kissed her hard and hungry, and when they parted she whispered into his lips, "I love you."

Killian's eyes widened, then thrust into her a final time and emptied himself inside of her. He caught her lips as she felt his warmth fill her and kissed him until it was over.

He was gasping, his breaths mingling with hers. She stroked his stubble until he looked at her. There was something in his eyes, something that hadn't been there before. "What's wrong?" she asked, suddenly worried. Perhaps he had changed his mind. Perhaps this was all a trick to lure her into bed again. "Killian-"

"Emma!" he said, grabbing her face with both hands, "Emma, you're alright." He kissed her.

"Of course I'm alright." she said, pulling away, "I mean... I'll be a little sore, but-"

He kissed her again, this time ravenously, "I knew you'd find me, my amazing woman."

"Find you?" she asked, "What are you talking about? You came here. God, you're drunk. Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Emma, listen to me!" yelled suddenly, frightening her. She froze in his arms. He was looking at her intently, searching her face for something unknown. "Darling," he said carefully, staring longingly into her eyes, "I... I remember."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Reviews get my muse all hot and bothered.


	6. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for some reason I’m really proud of this chapter. I just feel like I was in the zone writing-wise. This isn’t as dub-conning as the rest but it’s nice and blasphemous for all you filthy, filthy sinners out there who will be joining be in hell.

“You remember?” Emma asked, confused, “You remember what?”

 

Father Jones was grinning ear to ear. “Everything! The queen, the potion, the curse!”

 

“ _CURSE?!”_ Emma shrieked, “Oh, no!” she moaned, “You and that little psychopath are in this together!”

 

“What?”

 

She was speaking to herself “Emma, you idiot! Henry was the one that told you to go to mass. This was all just a crazy prank by a ten-year-old!”

 

“Henry?!” Killian said, grabbing her by the shoulders, “Henry lives with the queen! We have to get him away from her!”

 

Emma could only stare at him, stunned. “You’re a crazy person.”

 

“Bloody hell, WHY DON’T YOU REMEMBER?!” he yelled at her angrily making her flinch. Instantly regret covered his features, “I’m sorry.” he sighed, pinching his nose, “It’s just that this is rather inconvenient. I’ve no idea how long we’ve been under this curse, I don’t know where Regina is, and I could really use my savior right about now.”

 

“You mean... Jesus?”

 

Killian huffed in exasperation, “For goodness sake, I’m not a priest, Emma. I’m Captain Hook of the Jolly Roger, and your the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.”

 

Emma’s eyes filled with tears, “Why are you doing this to me?” she blubbered, “You said you loved me and that you wanted to marry me and it was all just a cruel joke?”

 

“Emma, no!” he rushed over throwing his arms around her, “It’s all true! I still mean it, every word! Now more than ever, in fact.”

 

Emma looked up at him, sniffing back waterworks, “What the hell is going on, Killian?”

 

He took her left hand in his and brought it up to his lips, “This ring belonged to my brother. I had it remade to fit your finger.”

 

“Henry said...” Emma stuttered, wanting desperately to believe, “He said that you gave this to me when you ask me to marry you.”

 

“Aye. We went out to sea that day.” He laughed, “Somehow I thought that if I got you out of town your demanding job wouldn’t be able to reach us.” then he added sadly, “I was wrong.”

 

“This can’t be possible. Things like this just don’t happen. This is the real world!”

 

“Emma, I want you to try and remember your childhood.”

 

She shook her head, trying to will everything to go back to how it was just a few moments ago. “My childhood was terrible. I’ve blocked most of it out.”

 

“Don’t you see, darling? That’s the curse! Your memories are fuzzy because they’re not real! Now, you said that your son had contacted you. What exactly did he say?”

 

“I do not have a son, I--” her voice broke, “I’m sorry Killian, I can’t have children.”

 

“What?” he asked, horrified. Her heart sunk. Would he still want to be with her after knowing the truth?

 

“I don’t remember much about my life before I came to Storybrooke, but I do have memories. I... I got pregnant while I was living on the street. I didn’t have a home or clothes or food. I definitely didn’t have money for a--” her eyes welled with tears and she forced herself to continue. She had avoided church for years simply so that she would never have to make this confession. “I met a guy who said he could help me. All I had to do was...” she looked guiltily up at Killian who’s eyes were filled with anger. She cleared her throat awkwardly, “Ahem, I did what I had to. I couldn’t bring a child into a life like that! You have to understand! But the guy... he wasn’t a doctor and... something went wrong...” Emma broke then. The sobs poured from her, shaking her entire body. Killian caught her as her legs gave out and helped her over to the couch. He swiped his shirt off the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders. She begged him, “Father, please forgive me! I thought there was no other way!”

 

“Emma, listen to me,” he said firmly, “all of that is a lie. It isn’t true, none of it, and I’m going to kill that witch for putting such awful things in your head! You had that baby. You gave him up for adoption and he was adopted by a woman named Regina....” he then proceeded to tell her a fascinating tale of true love and heartbreak and betrayal. He told her the story of how they met and fell in love, “....and I was trying to concentrate on climbing the bloody beanstalk but all you wanted to do was flirt. Practically swooned when I bandaged your hand...” he told her about their first kiss in Neverland, “Bloody took you long enough...” and about selling his ship to find her, “...the man said he’d take me ship, and I didn’t blink. All I could think about was seeing you again....” and about the ball at King Midas’s castle, “...You looked so beautiful in that red dress.”

 

“Wait!” Emma stopped him and pulled Henry’s book from beneath the coffee table where she’d left it. She flipped to the page with the dancing couple, “I had a dream that I was wearing this dress.” she said in amazement, “We were in a hallway and we were...” her cheeks grew red.

 

“Oh, don’t be shy, darling.” he chuckled, rubbing reassuringly at her arm, “After what we’ve done?”

 

“If all of this is true... If I have a son...” she looked up at him, hope in her eyes, “Does that mean I can have children?”

 

Killian took her face in his hands, “Emma, there is absolutely no reason to believe that you cannot have more children, and I intend to personally find out for certain just as soon as we take care of this current situation.”

 

She smiled, “I want this to be real, Killian.”

 

He kissed her gently, “I know it’s hard, love, but I need you to believe.”

 

“I believe in us.” she sniffed, “I believe that this is real, whatever it is.”

 

“Good,” he laughed, nudging her nose with his, “that’s a start.”

 

“But, I don’t understand. Why do you and Henry have your memories, but no one else?”

 

“I don’t know, but we need to talk to the boy. Find out exactly what he knows. It’ll be a miracle if he’s managed to make it this long without the queen finding out he’s onto her.”

 

“I’m guessing this means we aren’t leaving Storybrooke...” she said sadly.

 

“It doesn’t matter. Now we don’t have to feel guilty about being together. We’ll just have to keep it a secret a while longer.”

 

Emma felt like she had just had a precious gift ripped away from her, “I don’t want to have to hide this.”

 

“Neither do I, but I’ll have to continue with my priestly duties.” he laughed, “A man of the cloth. That’s one thing I never thought I’d be.”

 

Emma felt deflated. The emotion must have shown on her face because the priest took her face in his hands and said, “Emma, listen to me. I must continue to play this role but I have taken no vow. Nothing and no one can keep me away from you.”

 

“So you want to just keep this a secret indefinitely?”

 

“I know it’s difficult for you to understand what’s happening. We need to speak to Henry. He can help me explain things.”

 

Emma tapped her foot and furrowed her brow, thinking it over. She looked up at him with suspicious eyes. “You swear this isn’t a trick?”

 

He gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “I swear, love.”

 

Emma smiled, “Can you stay tonight?”

 

A mischievous grin spread across his face, “Well, I do have mass in the morning... but I have had quite a bit to drink. I suppose it wouldn’t be very priestly for me to be out on the road in such a state.”

 

Emma led Killian upstairs to her bed.

 

“ _Our_ bed.” he corrected. “I spent many a morning waking up next to you in this bed. It’s the first home I’ve had since the Jolly. I won’t have taken it away from me.”

 

He was being playful of course, but it made Emma ask, “If you’re really Captain Hook, then where’s your ship?”

 

“Excellent question, love.” he said, crawling under the covers and puling her close, “I intend to find out tomorrow. I’ll go to the docks after mass.”

 

And with that, Emma fell asleep in his warm embrace, and let all her troubles fade away to the sound of her lover’s breath.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

In the morning, Killian woke to a splitting headache.

 

He winced at the sunlight coming through the window. Looking around, he slowly realized that he wasn’t in his living quarters at the Cathedral. Than he heard a sound that made his heart stop.

 

It was a soft little groan, and it came from the woman in his arms.

 

_Emma,_ he realized. She murmured in her sleep. He pulled her close and breathed her in. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there, but he was eternally grateful to God that He had mercifully given him this gift despite his sins.

 

He kissed her golden head, reveling in the softness of the silken waves beneath his lips.  Slowly, she began to move. “Good morning, love.” he whispered, nuzzling at her neck until she turned over in his arms. Her smile was so innocent and kind. He felt a sudden pang of guilt at the realization that he had made her a sinner. But surely condemnation was a better fate than the two of them being apart.

 

Their fight had wrecked him, you see. Father Killian had never been emotional or volatile but when Emma had left him the previous morning to see another man something had snapped. He’d tried to tell himself that their tryst was nothing more than a depraved fetish; that a decade of deprivation had left him starving for the warmth of a woman.

 

The problem was, it wasn’t just any woman he craved.

 

“Good morning.” Emma replied, taking his face in her hands and pulling him in for a delicate kiss. He growled, melding his lips to hers, and wondered how such a sinful act could feel so right. “So,” she said breathlessly when they finally parted, “are you ready to look for your ship, Captain?”

 

“Ship?” he chuckled, teasing her mouth with his, “What ship would that be?”

 

Emma laughed. It was a truly beautiful sound. “Why, the Jolly Roger of course.”

 

“The Jolly Roger?” he murmured, already lost in her lips again, but Emma stopped him.

 

She pulled away, looking concerned, “You... You do remember last night, don’t you? You remember... all those things you said?”

 

Killian’s heart sunk. She would never forgive him for this. He winced, barely able to force the words out, “I’m so sorry, darling. Last night I was wild with jealousy. I drank far too much. I’m afraid...” Killian could see the light fading from her eyes. He was hurting her, and it killed him, “I’m afraid the evening’s a bit of a blur.”

 

She stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression. Just as he was about to say something else she wrenched herself from his arms and left the bed. “Get out.”

 

“Emma.” he pleaded.

 

“GET OUT!!!” she screamed.

 

Killian clenched his fists. This woman could be so bloody frustrating. He tried to reason with her, “Please, darling, let me explain--”

 

“I want you to go.” she bit out tersely.

 

He sighed. It was early in the morning but he needed to leave anyway. Mass would be starting soon and he had nothing prepared. “Alright,” the priest said, putting his hands in the air as if to surrender, “but I expect to see you in the front row where I can keep an eye on you.” he winked before grabbing her and kissing her hard. To his surprise she didn’t resist, and he took a moment to melt into her lithe body before walking down the stairs and out the door. Her embrace, he decided, was likely as close to heaven as he would ever come, and that was alright with him.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

“Ok, kid,” Emma sighed, closing her eyes to the reality of what she was doing. “you’ve got two minutes.”

 

Henry smiled ear to ear. He was sitting on her sofa drinking hot coco from Granny’s out of a togo cup and munching on onion rings. “Do you remember?”

 

“No.” she answered quickly.

 

“But... something happened?”

 

Emma sighed again, rolling her eyes, “I cannot believe I’m even considering telling you this.”

 

The young boy leaned back and kicked his feet onto the coffee table sporting a familiar looking smirk. “So,” he said, “what do you want to know?”

 

Emma took a moment to answer, suddenly wholly unsure. “I... Just... just tell me.... whatever it is that you want to tell me and make it fast because I have to get you back to school.”

 

He responded by popping an onion ring in his mouth and saying, “Just like old times.”

 

“And no riddles!” she snapped, “Tell me the truth. What is happening to my life?”

 

“Your life?” he drawled dubiously, “This isn’t your life. This is all a facade! She designed this whole thing, beginning to end!”

 

“Damn it, Henry, I said no riddles! What the hell are you talking about?!”

 

“Ok, ok!” he said, “Calm down. You really want to know the truth?”

 

She nodded, dreading whatever was coming next.

 

“Ok,” he shrugged, “here it is...”

 

Henry then proceeded to tell Emma an incredible tale. He claimed to be her son by a man she had met while living on the street. It was a story similar to the one she remembered, but with a very different ending. He told her that he was adopted  by a woman named Regina who was actually the Evil Queen from Snow White. The rest of the story was a blur but Emma managed to absorb most of the details.

 

“...That’s when you met Captain Hook.”

 

“Captain Hook? The guy that lied to me about who he was? The guy I tied to a tree?”

 

Henry nodded as he finished off the last of the snacks.

 

She shook her head, “The same guy that was working with an evil witch to destroy me and everyone I love?” Killian hadn’t mentioned any of that. His story has been a bit vague in comparison to the kid’s.

 

“Now you see why she turned him into a priest.” Henry continued to elaborate on their relationship and startled her by repeating Father Jones’s story about time travel and the ball where she wore the red dress. Luckily, he didn’t seem to know anything about the hallway where she and this pirate had shared more than a dance.

 

“So, if Regina forgave Snow, and let go of her vengeance, why would we be cursed again?”

 

“It wasn’t Regina that cast the first curse, it was the Evil Queen she had become.” He then told her about an accidental trip to another realm that had resulted in Mr. Hyde himself coming to Storybrooke with a very inconvenient potion in tow. “...And the only way to break this curse is True Love’s Kiss, which is why she kept you and Hook apart with religion. It was pretty smart, actually.”

 

“There’s just one problem, Henry.” Emma said shyly, “Hook-- ahem... _Father Jones_ and I have kissed... _many_ times. It doesn’t seem to have changed anything.”

 

“Then why am I here?”

 

“What?”

 

“Why are you talking to me? Last I heard you wanted me to go away and not come back.”

 

She suddenly remembered the previous morning.  “Killian... said that he remembered.”

 

Henry’s face lit up, “He did?!”

 

“Well, yes, but--”

 

“That’s great! Where is he? I’ve missed him!”

 

“Henry listen to me!” she snapped, sounding more like a mother than ever, “He’d had a lot to drink and... in the morning...” she could feel her cheeks flush pink with shame, “...he didn’t remember anything.”

 

The boy tapped his chin thoughtfully with a restless finger while Tyga wallowed with her head in his lap, “Damn.”

 

“Tyga, stop it!” Emma barked, as the dog incessantly whined for a belly rub.

 

“Tyga?” Henry repeated, “Doesn’t that word mean... _snow_?”

 

Emma nodded, taking a sip of her coco.

 

Henry looked down at the playful hound with a worried expression, “Uh-oh.”

 

“Wait a second.” she said suddenly, “How do you have your memories? When did you get them back?”

 

“A few weeks ago that book showed up in my room. I touched it and I just... remembered. I thought the same might work for you.”

 

Well, it didn’t.” said Emma almost grumpily.

 

“But something made Hook remember. Right?”

 

She thought about it. They had been kissing, but they had done that so many times before. Then she remembered, and almost startled herself by saying, “I told him I loved him...”

 

“For real?” Henry said, coughing and sputtering on his drink.

 

Emma nodded, “I had a dream... We were on a ship and a storm was coming... he begged me to say it and I wouldn’t.” She quickly wiped a tear from her cheek, “I mean, I did, but... it was too late.” Henry looked at her kindly, and for a moment she really did believe everything that he had said. She believed that he was her son and that Father Jones was her long lost love, come to rescue her from a hopelessly lonely existence. But then reality set in, and she realized her mistake. “This is ridiculous.” she sniffed, “This can’t be happening, it’s insane.”

 

Henry surprised her by getting up off the couch and putting his arms around her waist. “It’s okay, mom. I know it’s a lot but everything will be alright.”

 

Emma placed a trembling hand on his head. “You’re a good kid.”

 

“Yeah,” he replied, “I know.”

 

She then sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time. “So,” she said, “what do we do now?”

 

Henry extracted himself from their embrace and began to pace the floor. “Well, whatever we do, we can’t let the queen know we’re onto her.”

 

Emma moved to the couch and picked the fried crumbs from the greasy paper bag on the table. “How are we supposed to break this curse if True Love’s Kiss isn’t working?”

 

“Last time your mom and dad kissed and it didn’t break it because it had to be you. The rules may have changed but you’re still the savior.”

 

“Does that mean... Hook isn’t my true love?”

 

“No way. I mean, the fact that you still managed to find each other despite all the obstacles she put in your way just proves it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have another True Love out there.”

 

Emma found herself vigorously shaking her head, “No.” she said firmly, “I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care if we’re cursed forever, I only want to be with him.”

 

“Relax. Last time it was your love for me that broke the curse. True Love comes in all sorts of forms.”

 

Emma gave him a doubtful look, “How many True Loves can a person have?”

 

Henry looked at his watch, “Shit. I gotta go.”

 

“Henry! Language!” Emma snapped.

 

He smiled as he gathered his things and walked towards the door. “I’ll get in touch with you later this week. Just keep doing what you’re doing with Father Jones but keep it on the DL. That part’s very important.” She nodded, and barely caught his parting words as he skipped down her front steps, “By the way, you should call him Killian.” he called over his shoulder, “He likes when you say his real name.”

 

Emma watched him walk down the street towards his school. Her own belief astounded her. She wasn’t the type to believe in anything besides the church, and that relationship was born more out of gratitude than blind faith. She pondered their conversation, then her strange morning with her lover. She wasn’t sure that Henry’s fantastic stories could erase the crippling guilt that overwhelmed her every time she felt the priest inside her body, but regardless, she knew it wouldn’t be stopping her anytime soon.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

The following Sunday Emma Swan found herself in a very compromising position. The church bells were tolling out a beautiful melody that signaled the beginning of mass, but Father Jones was not in the sanctuary.

 

“You should go.” she said breathlessly, not meaning a single word.

 

Killian responded by silencing her with his eager lips that seemed to be insatiably hungry for more. They kissed until the ringing stopped, his hands wandering all over her body, dragging over the less-than-tasteful red dress that she usually saved for her dates with Jefferson. The moment he’d seen her he’d pulled her into a hallway and kissed her senseless while just a few feet away his congregation settled into their seats.

 

“Killian,” she whispered, “we’ll get caught.”

 

He chuckled darkly, adjusting his clerical collar, “You’re a very sinful girl, Emma, keeping a priest from his holy obligations.”

 

She giggled playfully, “How will you punish me, Father?”

 

He punctuated his answers with soft kisses to her face and neck, “With my fingers, and my tongue, and my cock.”

 

Emma felt her thighs grow slick at the thought. “When?”

 

“First you must confess.” he instructed in her favorite tone of his that was both stern and intimidating. “Come at two o’ clock. You can tell me all the naughty thoughts you’ve had since I last saw you and I will punish you accordingly.” He kissed her one last time before racing down the hall.

 

“Wait!” she cried, laughing giddily as she attempted to remove the smeared lipstick from his cheeks and chin.

 

When he was gone she waited a few minutes before slipping into the service and claiming the seat in the front pew she had reserved with her coat. Emma watched her lover give his sermon, growing wet with every word. Despite all his transgressions it was clear that he still found comfort in the Word of God. She blushed every time his blue eyes met hers, thinking of the sinful thoughts that were most likely running through his mind. When it was time to pray, she asked the Lord to make everything Henry said true. She wanted to be with the priest, Emma had finally accepted that, but she didn’t want to take him away from his work. It was a dilemma, but at the moment all she could think about was the punishment she couldn’t wait to receive.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Later that day, Emma went to confession. She waited until the sanctuary was empty before slipping into the confessional.

 

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” she began, “It has been two weeks since my last confession.”

 

“Tell me your sins, my child.”

 

Emma blushed from the mere anticipation of what was about to happen in this sacred place. “I have seduced a man of the cloth. I have used my body to lead him into temptation. I have lusted and driven him to lust as well. I have taken his cock on a sacred alter. The blasphemous deed made me come apart like a filthy whore.”

 

“Come here.” Father Jones growled from the other side of the confessional. She waited a moment to be sure she’d heard correctly. “Come here, right now, you dirty, sinful girl, so I can treat you like the wanton thing you are.”

 

Emma eagerly slipped out of her booth and into his. When she did, she found his robe on the floor and his cock in his hand. He immediately grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her like a man dying of thirst.

 

Their hands were everywhere, the breaths they took were heavy and desperate. Lost in their own little world, they were startled by the sound of someone entering the confessional.

 

Emma froze, panic rising in her chest, but Killian only latched onto her neck and nibbled her skin until she was forced to hold back a moan.

 

“Um... Father?” said a familiar voice, “Are you there?”

 

It was Ruby Lucas, a girl Emma considered a friend. She moved to disentangle herself from the priest but he held her tight enough to bruise. “Yes, my child.” he said in a surprisingly even voice.

 

Ruby began, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been...”

 

Emma didn’t hear the rest. father Jones was whispering frantically in her ear, “Suck my cock, Emma. Let me fuck your beautiful mouth while I take a confession. If you do a good job, I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk, aye?”

 

That word. _Aye_. He had been using often lately. More than when they’d first met. She couldn’t help but associate it with the pirate Henry claimed that he was. Without hesitation Emma quietly slid down to her knees and took his throbbing length in her hand. As Ruby continued, Emma licked his shaft making him twitch with obvious anticipation. She circled her tongue around the head, teasing him until he took her firmly by the hair and forced himself down her throat. Tears rolled down her face as she took him all, enjoying the way he was forcefully controlling her movements. He surprised her by seeming to not be in any hurry to dismiss Ruby. In fact, he casually discussed the problem she was having with her grandmother while Emma tried her best to keep her gagging as quiet as possible.

 

Finally, Killian pulled her up harshly by the hair and roughly turned her around so that she was straddling him from behind. He whispered silkily in her ear, “Ride me” he commanded, pulling her tight red dress up past her waist. She heard him suck in a breath when he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties and her essence was dripping down her inner thighs.

 

As Emma took him inside her slowly and reveled in his girth. Once he was hitting bottom almost painfully he bit at her neck leaving blasphemous marks that she would certainly have to cover. She eased up and down his shaft while he tore the straps of her dress from her shoulders and pawed at her breasts. Tiny sounds escaped her as he hit bottom over and over again. He clamped his calloused hand over her mouth and whispered delicious threats in her ear should she make a sound. Finally, Ruby was given her instructions for penance and left the confessional. That was when things took a turn.

 

The good Father, clearly unable to hold back any longer, lifted her up and began to pound into her at a pace that took her breath away. He impaled her like he was trying to fuck the life out of her and she enjoyed every thrust as if it were the salvation neither of them deserved.

 

Killian pushed her off and spun her around, slamming her into the door of the confessional with his hard body and ferocious lips. He tore his collar from his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, slamming his cock into her so hard and so deep she worried he might hurt her, despite trusting him completely. It was just the right combination of emotions to arouse her to a state of ecstasy.

 

“Fuck me, Father!” she pleaded, “Fuck me until I’ve learned my lesson.”

 

“Bloody hell, you are worth my soul, Emma. From this day on I worship no gods but you.”

 

She felt her walls flutter at his devotion. “More,” she begged, “more words, Killian.”

 

“Do you enjoy being punished, Emma?”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

“Do you enjoy opening your legs for your priest on the sabbath?”

 

“Yes, I love it.”

 

“Why?” he growled.

 

Lost in the moment and drowning in lust she replied, “Because I’m a filthy whore who loves his cock.”

 

He reached down to rub vigorously at her bundle of nerves making her gasp at the overstimulation.

 

“Please,” she barely managed to eek out.

 

“Take it, Emma.” he commanded, “Take it like a good girl.”

 

Finally her body adjusted to the sensation. Warmth began to bloom deep within her.

 

“Come for me, my child. Come on my cock, you sinful, angelic little whore.”

 

Emma’s body responded without her permission, sending waves of pleasure pulsing through her body. She cried out his name, his real name, sending him over the edge as well. As her walls milked him dry, emitting aftershocks that made her tremble, he kissed her in a way that said it all. When he pulled away she responded to the kiss as if it had been a statement, “I love you, Killian.”

 

His breathy pants ceased in an instant. He was looking into her eyes with wonder and amazement. “Emma, I love you, too. Tell me what you want from me.”

 

The question took her off guard. She stuttered, “I-I... I...” it frightened her when she realized the answer was obvious, “I want you! I want us! I want _this_.”

 

“I’ll leave the church--”

 

“No, no!” Emma said quickly, “Please, not yet.”

 

He looked at her curiously, then suspiciously, gently setting her legs down to the floor, “Why not? Is it Jefferson?! You can’t see him anymore, I won’t allow it!”

 

This time she didn’t fight him. Instead she stroked his stubble and promised him, “I’ll break things off with Jefferson. Tomorrow. I swear. But there’s something I have to do before we... tell people about us. We have to keep it a secret for a while longer.”

 

“What do you have to do?”

 

“It’s a... personal project. It doesn’t matter it just... Look, I need you to trust me. Okay? I love you, and I want you, and I won’t let anything keep me from you but we have to keep this a secret for a while longer.”

 

After a moment he nodded, “You’re mine forever. You understand that, don’t you? I don’t know what it is, but something in me just has to have you.”

 

“I know,” she smiled, “I feel it, too.”

 

Killian smiled back and kissed her on the forehead. “We should go,” he said, fixing her dress and messy hair.

 

Once they were presentable again they stumbled out of the confessional booth like a couple of teenagers.

 

“Hello, Father.”

 

Emma jumped at the unexpected greeting. She hadn’t said it, but it was a woman’s voice. They both turned to see the Mayor Regina standing in stilettos in the light of the stained glass windows.

 

They stood there, both dumbstruck, until the priest recovered. “Madame Mayor! Always a pleasure.”

 

Emma was frozen solid. All of Henry’s stories were floating through her head. According to him, this woman had massacred villages, enslaved innocent women, sexually abused men (men she cared about, no less). Emma knew the consequences of the queen seeing what she had just witnessed. She took a step back just as Killian said, “Emma here was just helping me fix this door.” He opened the wooden door to the booth, “There was a screw that needed tightening.”

 

Regina didn’t say anything. She simply stared like a shark just before an attack. He shook Emma to her core. There was something horribly evil about this woman that she could sense from a mile away. “Um..” she croaked, “I have to go. I’ll see you next week, Father.”

 

“Oh, Emma, I’ll walk you out, I promised to discuss that private matter of yours.”

 

“Miss Swan, I didn’t realize you were religious.” said Regina with a smile.

 

“I didn’t realize we knew each other.” she snapped unexpectedly.

 

Killian turned Emma abruptly away and began to walk her towards he door. “I’ll be back in a moment, Madame Mayor.”

 

Regina was quick to respond, “That’s alright, I was just leaving. Oh, but Father!”

 

Killian and Emma both stopped in there tracks and turned to find Regina walking towards them. “I think you forgot this.” She then placed in his hand the white clerical collar he had failed to put back on. Without a word she turned and left the chapel through a side door, leaving Killian and Emma together, but in deep, deep shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Is this update as well-written as I think it is? Let me know in a review. Also, since we’re ll going to be spending a lot of time together in the afterlife we should get to know each other. Send any questions you have to @hooks-and-happy-endings on Tumblr.


	7. Forgive Them Their Wrongdoings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is so late. This chapter includes a little bit of bondage but mostly just rough sex.

“Emma...” Jefferson shook his head. He looked to confused. “I don’t...” he huffed in frustration, “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

 

Emma reached across the table at Granny’s and put her hand on his, “Jefferson, I care about you, I really do, but this...” she gestured to the space between them, “This is going nowhere.”

 

“What are you talking about?” he hissed, “We’ve been together for...” his eyes darted about, trying to calculate time, “For... we’ve always been together! I can’t even remember what my life was like before I met you.”

 

“And how exactly did we meet? Hmm? Can you remember? Because I can’t.” He looked down shamefully. She took a deep breath, “I know this is hard, J, but I can’t do this anymore. I think we should go our separate ways.”

 

Her heart broke as Jefferson’s eyes filled with tears, “Is this about...” he looked around nervously, “Is this about the other night when I said I had a dream about having a daughter? Because I never should have told you about that. You know I don’t care that we can’t have kids.”

 

“It’s not that.” she snapped, not having forgotten the disturbing dream Jefferson had woken her up at 2am to tell her about the night before.

 

He sat back in the booth and chewed on his bottom lip. When he spoke, his voice was broken with more emotion than he had shown in the seemingly endless time they had been together, “Just tell me one thing.” She held her breath, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Is... is there someone else?”

 

She looked away, knowing it was too late. He had already seen the guilt in her eyes.

 

He continued, “Because, you know, when you’ve been together as long as we have... I mean... these things happen, you know? But... we... we can work through it. We can... we can go to Archie!”

 

“I have to go.” she huffed and quickly grabbed her red leather jacket.

 

“Emma!” he called after her, but she was already out of her seat and headed for the door.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

_Killian was lost._

 

_He could feel her lips on his and hear the rustling of leaves above them, but in that moment all he truly knew was her._

 

_“I should go.” she breathed between kisses._

 

_“No,” he commanded in the voice he knew she loved, “stay.”_

 

_She giggled; a fantastic sound, “You know greed is a sin.”_

 

_He devoured her right there in the meadow in which they had just made love. She was bare beneath him, and greed didn’t come close to describing the dark pleasure he got out of knowing her body was all his. “My lust for you has already damned me Emma, but this...” he ran his hand down her side, groping at her curves and let his lips brush hers as he said, “...this is so bloody worth it.”_

 

_“Is it?”_

 

_Killian looked up, startled by the unfamiliar voice. His brow crinkled in confusion. “Madame Mayor?” he asked, shocked to see Regina Mills standing just a few feet away taking a bite out of a large red apple_

 

_“I should’ve known you two would find each other.”_

 

_“Killian,” Emma moaned, taking his face in her hands, “please don’t stop.”_

 

_He looked down into her green eyes and instantly fell into another kiss._

 

_“Don’t you want to know what’s going to happen to her?” the Mayor asked gleefully._

 

_Killian forced himself to break their kiss but didn’t look away. “She’s going to marry me.” he said, stroking her face._

 

_“Perhaps.” Regina shrugged, “Or... perhaps she’ll die in a car crash tomorrow. Do you know what happens to her then?”_

 

_He looked up with questioning eyes._

 

_“Here,” she said, “have a look.”_

 

_Killian caught the apple when she tossed it to him and was immediately ripped from the beautiful meadow. He found himself in a dark space. It was horribly hot, almost suffocating, and he could here a woman screaming._

 

_“Emma!” he called, a thick and terrible dread settling in his stomach. He raced into the darkness towards the gut wrenching sound. “Emma!” he called again. It was her. he would know her cries anywhere. But these weren’t screams of pleasure. She was in agony. He reached a gate, and beyond it was a pit of fire. “EMMA!!” he screamed when he saw her writhing in the flames, “Emma I’m coming for you!” he tried to yank the metal bars away but they were red hot and burned his hands. Still he banged and kicked and shoved, “Emma!” he could barely hear his calls over her guttural screams._

 

_That was when a deep and throaty laugh rose out of the darkness behind him. “Now you see what will happen to her.”_

 

_As Emma’s cries died away, leaving a black corpse in the pit, Killian’s legs buckled and he fell to his knees. Tears slid down his face as he muttered the name of his love over and over._

 

_“Would you like to stop it?” asked the mayor._

 

_The good father looked up to find her smiling cruelly down at him, “How?”_

 

_Regina smirked, “I’m afraid there is only one way.” She leaned down, stroking his face, “You must never touch her again.”_

 

Father Killian woke with a start. He was breathing hard.

 

“Killian?”

 

The sound of Emma’s voice left him breathless, “Emma!”

 

“What’s wrong?” She sounded worried.

 

He looked around. They were in her room. “Bloody hell.” he tore himself from the sheets and went for his clothes which were strewn across the hardwood floor.

 

“Killian?”

 

“I have to go, and I can’t come back.”

 

“I know,” she sighed, “but that’s okay.” She crawled out of bed and caught his hands as they fumbled with his shirt buttons. Emma gently did them herself, looking up into his eyes. “I like it when you fuck me in your church.” she said, biting her lip., “Like when you forced me to come all over the alter.”

 

At her blasphemous words Killian’s brow started to sweat.

 

She continued, nuzzling her nose with his, “Or when you bent me over your desk and fucked me like the blasphemous whore that I was.” she nibbled on his ear, whispering breathily, “Or when you took my confession.”

 

Killian tore himself out of her embrace, “No.”

 

Emma looked at him, confused, “What?”

 

“We can’t,” he bit out, “if I touch you again we’ll both go to hell.”

 

in an instant her face fell, “But... you said you didn’t care about that.”

 

“I said I didn’t care about my soul. But I won’t let you burn. I did this to you. I... I corrupted you.”

 

She looked at him with a dubious expression, “You think _you_ did this to _me_?”

 

“W-we can’t give into temptation anymore.” That was all he said before exiting the room half-dressed. He didn’t want to think about the look on Emma’s face when he shut the door. He loved her, he realized, and it was only the depth of his love that gave him the strength to walk away. He’d meant what he said. He didn’t care what happened to him, but he couldn’t let her spend eternity in agony.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

When Emma entered the chapel later that day she could hear Killian’s voice echoing out over the invisible congregation.

 

“... _but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death._ ”

 

She walked down the aisle as he practiced his sermon and skipped up the dais in her little black dress which was far too inappropriate for the setting. Slipping in between the priest and his podium she ran her hands up his chest and looked at him hungrily.

 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

 

Emma smiled coyly up at him, “I’ve been doing a lot of things I shouldn’t lately, Father.”

 

He smirked, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously, “Been misbehaving again, have we Miss Swan?” he tsked, “what shall I do about that?”

 

Emma reached up and pulled his face to hers. They kissed languidly in the quiet sanctuary, the only sound was that of their lips separating and returning to each other over and over.

 

“Take me, Father,” Emma whined, “Take me here, punish me for wanting you.”

 

The priest sighed, looking around anxiously, “We can’t. It’s wrong.”

 

“I don’t care,” she said breathlessly, running her fingers over his manly stubble, “I need you. Don’t you want me?”

 

He kissed her. It was hungry and intense. When they parted he said, “I won’t damn you to burn for eternity, Emma. You deserve better.”

 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, “I deserve to be with you.”

 

“I said no.” he barked, giving her a gentle shove.

 

Emma responded by slapping him hard across the cheek. She held her breath, waiting for his reaction. At first he did nothing. Then his eyes went dark and he no longer looked like the priest she knew. He was someone else. Someone she remembered, though she wasn’t sure from where. A dream perhaps, or a memory from another life.

 

He slammed her into the podium and grabbed her by her hair, “God forgive me.” he said before kissing her senseless. He was handsy and rough. He turned her around and pulled her dress up to her waist. “Bloody hell.” he spat and Emma smiled. She was bare, just for him. He spanked her hard and she yelped, arching her back at the pleasure pain radiating from her ass. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” he barked, rubbing the tender skin, “The only way for you be absolved of your sins is if I punish you for them. I’m going to spank you until your pink, and then I’m going to touch you. If you’re wet, that means you’re having lustful thoughts.”

 

Emma bit her lips happily, “And how will you punish me, Father?”

 

The sound of his voice rolled over her in sensual waves, “I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk.”

 

Every time his hand came down on her ass Emma pitiful sound that he seemed to enjoy. When his fingers finally came to slide through her slick folds she moaned.

 

“Fuck, Emma.” he breathed, the desperation so obvious in his voice. He reached around her and grabbed his scarf which he had shoved behind the podium and wrapped it around her mouth several times before securing it in the back. She realized that whatever he was about to do to her was going to cause her to make a lot of noise. “Spread your legs.”

 

She obeyed without question. When he entered her she moaned but the sound was heavily muffled by the layers of cloth over her mouth. When he sped up she cried out. She could feel his large cock stretching her as it rolled over her g-spot. Then he began to truly punish her. Putting his hands on both her shoulders he rammed her so hard he triggered an instant orgasm deep inside her. She screamed as he fucked her through it, but it was barely a groan threw his scarf. He wasn’t done. He grabbed her hips and snapped his own into her over and over again until she came a second time, this time sobbing into her gag.

 

“I love how your body clenches around my cock when I make you come.”

 

As soon as she’d fallen back to Earth he reached around and began to play with her sensitive bundle of nerves. Emma moaned. Her body was somehow more responsive than ever. It was like every nerve was on fire. Another orgasm reared its head. Killian had to support her as her legs shook uncontrollably. She screamed, though it was little more than a mutter.

 

“That’s a good lass.” he growled just before spilling himself inside her.

 

Killian brought her over to the alter and laid her down His nose nuzzled with hers as they breathed each other in and when he spoke it was music to her ears, “I can’t fucking resist you.”

 

Emma giggled, “So, don’t.”

 

He smiled, “I love you, Emma. Whatever you have to do, do it fast. Then promise me we’ll leave this place.”

 

“I promise.” she said, pulling him down for a kiss. They stayed like that for far longer than they should have, but thankfully they weren’t caught. Emma left the sanctuary with a slight limp and a smile on her face. Whatever was happening was right. She wasn’t sure how but it had to be. Her feelings for Killian were pure and his for her were as well. All that was left was a tiny errand that would end this nonsense with the kid once and for all so that she and her love could start a new life somewhere else.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

“Ok...” said Emma as she and Henry trudged through the cemetery. It was damp from a recent rain and the fog was creeping over the grass in an eerie way. “So, we break into this mausoleum, search for... What are we searching for?

 

“Anything. Whatever’s in there will definitely prove that everything I’m saying is true.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes, “And wouldn’t the Evil Queen have protected something like that with demon magic or something?

 

“One: She’s not a demon, she’s a witch. Two: There is no magic in this world. The curse got rid of it.”

 

“Ok, what about non-magical locks then?”

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.”

 

It turned out to be a rather large chain keeping the door closed. Emma quickly picked the lock, releasing the chains and pushed the crypt door open.

 

Inside she was surprised to find stairs instead of a coffin. She went first, stepping down into a hallway. At the end was a mirror that looked somehow familiar.

 

“Come on.” Henry said, urging her along. They made their way into the depths of the strange underground bunker until they came to a set of bars in the wall.

 

“Stand back Henry!” Emma shouted when she saw something move in the darkness.

 

“Henry?!” A voice called from the shadows.

 

Emma gaped as a woman wearing filthy rags stumbled over to the bars. Her hair was dark and her skin was creamy. She was beautiful, despite being covered in dirt and wreaking of human waste. “Who are you?” Emma asked.

 

“Mom!” Henry cried, running over to the woman. He hugged her through the bars and Emma finally realized that the woman was the mayor.

 

“Mayor Mills!” she exclaimed in disbelief.

 

The mayor’s eyes flicked to Emma. “You did a great job, Henry. I knew you would do it.”

 

“What the hell is going on? Why are you in a cell? What _is_ this place? How did he know you were here?”

 

The woman looked Emma in the eye with a capturing gaze, “Emma, my name’s Regina, and we have a lot to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a review. This fic has been super fun to write but it will likely be ending soon :( I’ll try not to drag out the ending but I will be working on Her Master and Commander next. For sneak peeks in between updates follow me on Tumblr: http://hooks-and-happy-endings.tumblr.com/


	8. A Gift from God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient guys. This story is beginning to wrap up. It’s been an amazing journey and I can’t believe I’m closing out a second MC! Thank you for all your incredible support. Expect 1-2 more chapters.
> 
> WARNING: This chapter contains dubious consent, bondage, rough sex, anal play.

“She outsmarted me. I should have known she was preparing another curse.”

 

“So, it’s true,” Emma deadpanned, “all of it. The magic, the fairytales, the--” as the reality of it all set it her priorities quickly changed. She ran over to the bars and pleaded with Regina, “Please! Tell me! In this other life, are Killian and I together?”

 

The woman rolled her eyes, and sighed heavily, “Yes, you and the pirate make a sickeningly cute couple.”

 

“Tell me!” she begged desperately, “What do I have to do to break this curse?!”

 

Regina gave her a strange look and asked, “I’ve been here for almost three years. What took you so long to find each other?”

 

An awkward silence fell over the three of them until Henry broke it with a blunt, “Hook’s a priest, mom.”

 

Regina burst into hysterical laughter, “Well I always did have a flair for the dramatic,” her eyes fell to the crucifix hanging around Emma’s neck, “but I suppose in this case it was effective.

 

“I’m not joking,” Emma snapped, getting the conversation back on track, “Henry says I’m the savior? I’m gonna break this bitch. Tell me how.”

 

Regina looked around sarcastically, “Well, I don’t exactly know how. I’m stuck down here with a captor who’s got serious self-hate issues. All I know is this curse is different from the one that created Storybrooke. The framework is the same, we still definitely need a savior, but beyond that...”

 

“Ok, well, am I the only savior in town?”

 

“Wait, why can’t you just kiss the pirate?”

 

Emma looked away awkwardly before mumbling out, “I already did.”

 

Regina scoffed, “What? A forbidden peck on the cheek? Try it again. Give it some oomf.”

 

Emma replied grumpily, “Trust me, we gave it plenty of oomf.”

 

“And was this...” she asked with a raised brow, “ _after_ you learned that you were cursed?” Emma tried to control her facial expression but she knew her eyes said it all. “Really, Miss Swan? A _priest_?

 

“Are you judging me?”

 

“Actually, I think I just started to respect you.”

 

“Just for the record,” Henry cut in, “I hate this conversation so much.”

 

“So, what do we do now?” Emma asked, ignoring him. He dragged her into this mess and as if there was ever a chance he wasn’t gonna have mommy issues. “Killian has to be my True Love.”

 

“What about Henry?” Regina asked.

 

“Tried that.” he replied, “Also didn’t work.”

 

Emma threw her hands up in exasperation, “We’ve got nothing!”

 

“No,” said Regina, “we’ve got the most important thing. The element of surprise.”

 

Emma felt guilt rise up in her. She should tell them about the incident with the mayor, but nothing had come of it. Perhaps she had simply imagined the look on her face when she’d seen them together. “Maybe...” she said, “...maybe not.” Both parties turned to her and stared until she continued, “The mayor saw us after we... after... the point is... I’m good at reading people. It’s possible she may suspect something.”

 

“Great,” grumped Regina.

 

“I been watching her closely,” said Henry, shaking his head, “she would be acting differently if she knew.”

 

Regina sighed, “Look, the important thing is we’ve got the band back together. A savior, a truest believer, and one of the greatest witches that’s ever lived. It’s only a matter of time before we figure out the next step.” She then looked at Emma, “Right now we need time. Whatever you do, don’t change anything about your life.”

 

She shifted uneasily where she stood, “Well... I kind of... broke up with my boyfriend. Does that count as changing something?”

 

Regina and Henry responded together, “You _what_?!”

 

“Killian was getting jealous and it wasn’t fair to Jefferson. Not to mention the fact that I’m in love with somebody else.”

 

“ _Love_?” Regina repeated, “Well you two certainly have been busy.”

 

“He asked me to marry him.” Emma said with conviction, “On the day of the curse. I saw it in a dream.”

 

Regina smiled, “Good.” she said, “Where there’s True Love and a Charming, there’s hope.

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Emma sat on the medical table at the hospital, absentmindedly kicking her feet to the sound of buzzing florescent lightbulbs and an intercom in the distance. It had been a month since she and Henry had found Regina in the vault. They had been working on a solution ever since but were getting nowhere. Meanwhile, Emma and Father Jones had continued their torrid affair with escalating bravery. That was why she was here, waiting for the doctor who was the only one in town, and therefore also her gynaecologist.

 

“Emma! Good to see you!” Dr. Whale said as he entered the room. He was all white teeth and slick words, as usual. “So, you want to start taking birth control?”

 

She nodded sheepishly.

“Ok,” he replied, “why?”

 

The question shocked her. How dare he, in this day and age, question her motives for obtaining contraception. “Excuse me? That’s none of your business!”

 

Whale furrowed his brow in confusion at her defensiveness, “Emma, you’re... ahem, you can’t... carry a child. If you want the pill to help with a hormone imbalance that’s fine but I need to know for your records.”

 

“O-oh,” she stuttered, feeling her cheeks grow hot, “I, uh... Right, yeah, um, well...” she had somehow completely forgotten that the doctor had her medical records. Hopelessly embarrassed she managed to mutter, “...my periods have been really irregular lately.”

 

He looked like he didn’t believe her but didn’t press the matter. He wrote her a prescription and hurried out, most likely off to play golf. “Oh! And Emma!” he said, poking his head through the door, “Your pregnancy slash STD test? All negative.”

 

She smirked, “Good to know.”

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Later that night Emma sat at her desk. The Sheriff’s station was quiet. No Peter, no Leroy, just mindless paperwork to take her thoughts away from _him_.

 

She turned at the sound of a knock at the door.

 

“May I come in?” _Speak of the devil_.

 

Emma smiled, “Of course, Father.” Killian walked into the small room, casually strolling across the linoleum with his sinfully stubbled chin and his blasphemously white collar. “It’s late,” she said, eyeing him, “shouldn’t you be writing a sermon or something... priestly like that?”

 

He walked up to her and sat on the desk in front of her. She craned her neck to see his dark eyes as he said, “I’m taking the confession of a blasphemous whore. Can’t get much more priestly that that.”

 

“I didn’t realize priests made house calls to whores.”

 

“Only the ones that come on command.” he purred stroking her face. His fingers were rough. She moaned at the simple touch and nuzzled into his touch. He bit his lip, a habit that she adored. “I may be punishing her as well. She has been such a naughty lass.” He brought his face to hers and kisses her softly. She smiled, feeling the warmth of his presence envelope her. He easily lifted her up and switched so that he was in her office chair and she was straddling him. Emma ran her fingers greedily through his hair and chased his lips. His kiss was heaven and hell, all wrapped into one. The scrape of his masculine stubble was surely enough to damn any woman forever. He kissed her neck and then her shoulder, then her chest and then he began unbuttoning her blouse. She moaned and closed her eyes as she felt his lips leave a searing trail down to her breasts.

 

Suddenly, she felt a tug on her neck. Looking down she saw Killian staring at the little gold crucifix hanging there. He had it between his fingers like a precious object. She could easily read his features. “Don’t.” she said, causing him to look up at her with glistening blue eyes, “Don’t blame yourself for what I’ve done.”

 

“What _we’ve_ done.” he corrected, “We’re in this together now. I won’t leave you, no matter what happens.”

 

Emma sighed, “I love you, Killian. But... you need to be more careful. Coming to my office late at night, it’s risky.”

 

At that his expression turned dark, “Exactly how long do you expect me to maintain this charade? Bloody hell,” he cursed, “it’s bad enough I’ve broke my vows. I can’t live this lie indefinitely!”

 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” she said in a desperate rush, “I’m just asking for a bit more time.”

 

He sighed, and the sound broke her heart. He hated lying to everyone, yet he did it for her. She knew that he would do anything for her and she wanted to show him her gratitude. She wanted to please him and serve him and give herself to him over and over. “Perhaps I could... make it up to you?”

 

He smiled mischievously, “Will you submit to me?”

 

Emma reached down and unclipped her handcuffs from her belt. She held them tauntingly in front of him. They glinted in the light of the single dim lamp in her dark office. “Well...” she said brushing her nose with his and placing the handcuffs in his hands, “...why give me a choice?”

 

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

 

Emma’s nipples were rock hard in the processed office air. She was moaning helplessly as Killian fucked her roughly from behind. She was bent over her desk like a criminal on a car hood, her hands cuffed securely behind her back. Her breath sent trails of fog across the polished wood of her desk as she winced at the assault. “You’re really deep.” she gasped, “Please, you’re too big.”

 

“What’s that love?” he asked pounding into her harder, “You want more?”

 

Emma cried out in agony as a wall of white blinded her. Her body shook as the orgasm took her. Wave after wave made her sob with ecstasy for what must have been the fifth or sixth time. When she came back down to Earth he pulled her up by her hair. She shuddered in dread as she realized what she’d done. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to, you know sometimes I can’t help it!”

 

“Coming without permission,” he tsked, “such a naughty girl. I think it’s time for you to confess.” He slammed her back onto the desk, leaving her breathless.

 

“H-how are you going to punish me this time, Father?”

 

She heard him chuckle darkly and shivered when she felt his finger begin to massage a very intimate place. Then she felt what she thought were several golf balls on her back. “I’m going to stick these in your arse, and then I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to spank you when you come from it while you beg for forgiveness.”

 

She looked back to find him holding a strand of large anal beads. God knew where he got them. Her eyes widened at the prospect. “No! Please! You’re too big! I can’t take it in both. I can barely handle it as it is!”

 

“Spread your legs. Open yourself for me.”

 

She did what he said and readied herself.

 

The first one was enough to make her beg for forgiveness. By the third one she fighting the shame of the arousal that came from being violated in such a way. By fifth she was moaning for more. And when he began gently tugging on the string making the beads move inside her she shamelessly thanked him and begged to be fucked.

 

At first her wouldn’t fit. “Relax, love,” he cooed, “your body is mine now. Let it serve me so that I can worship you.”

 

When he finally entered her she gasped. It was a tight fit. Her walls began to tremble and pulse. She was so sensitive. More than usual. She could feel every inch of his cock inside her and couldn’t wait for it to move. The handcuffs must have been amplifying the experience. She loved giving all control over to him. She loved that he was more powerful than her sexually. Not that it caused an inequity in their relationship. She held power over him in other ways.

 

“Are you ready, darling?” he asked, stroking her back. Emma a reply. He then gripped her by the shoulders and unleashed himself on her. She came almost instantly, the pressure on her g-spot was just too great bare.

 

“Thank you, Father.” she sobbed, “I love your cock.”

 

He tugged roughly on the beads making her orgasm again. She heard him laugh giddily, “And I loved how tight your cunt gets when I make you come. Are you ready for the best part?”

 

He was still pounding into her at a deep angle with one hand on her bound wrists. When  he began pulling the beads out she came again. The orgasm ripped through her and was drawn out by each bead pressing her g-spot into his rock hard cock. He released himself inside her just as the fog in her head cleared. She heard her name fall from his lips along with a very primal sound.

 

Afterwards, they curled up on the bench and sat in satisfied silence under a blanket Emma kept just in case. She was staring up at him from where he kept her safe in his embrace. She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by a frantic knocking at the door.

 

“What the hell?” Emma sat up, worried.

 

“I locked the doors when I came in. Didn’t want anyone to catch us.”

 

She quickly combed through her sexed up locks and straightened her clothes. “Stay here.” she said.

 

When she opened the door, Emma was surprised to find the good doctor with a crazy look in his eye.

 

“ _Whale_?” she balked, “What the hell are you doing here? It’s past midnight.”

 

“I went to your house. You weren’t there.” he was out of breath, “I knew you’d want to know right away.” He handed her a paper with charts and numbers on it she didn’t understand. “Your lab work. There was a mix-up. You said you haven’t been sexually active?”

 

Emma found a list of results. Her eyes scrolled down.

 

Negative.

 

Negative.

 

Negative.

 

Positive.

 

“If that’s true, you better get the priest Miss Swan.” Emma looked up to look at him as a tear slid down her cheek. “It would appear we have an immaculate conception.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please review. Feedback brings the updates. Next I’ll be working on Her Master and Commander so keep an eye out for that. For sneak peeks between updates or if you have any questions follow me on Tumblr at hooks-and-happy-endings.tumblr.com
> 
> If you would like to be tagged in future updates and/or sneak peeks just send me a message.
> 
> Also, don’t forget to nominate your favorite authors in the @csfanficawards on Tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second fic I have ever written so please review to let me know how I'm doing!


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